


World Wide Story

by webcomix



Series: WWS AU [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Multi, Musicals, Theatre, West Side Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcomix/pseuds/webcomix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lovina Vargas was less than thrilled to leave her hometown and move into the city. But when her family pushed her into auditioning for the school musical, she found herself in for a whirlwind semester of rehearsals and romance! </p><p>First installment in a high school alternate universe, of which a name for has eluded me since 2011. Originally posted on FFN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello new fic posting platform! How lovely to meet you at last. For those who do not know me which I shall assume is everyone, my name is Comix. I have been writing fanfiction for just under 3 years now, although not as regularly as I'd like.
> 
> This was my very first fanfiction, and one I continue to be very fond of. It was originally posted on FFN and can still be found there, albeit mostly in its original incarnation. I'm in the process of editing almost all my fics, so AO3 is lucky enough to have them all here, brand new, beginning with the one that started it all. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Stephen Sondheim, and Leonard Bernstein.

 

* * *

With a grunt, Arthur shoved the last thumbtack onto the last poster and into the last bulletin board, then stepped back to survey his work. He'd spent the better part of an afternoon trudging around Hetalia High School putting up these notices by himself. It wasn't the most exciting task, but now every hallway and classroom displayed this announcement prominently:

 _CASTING CALL:  WEST SIDE STORY_  
  
We are looking for ACTORS, SINGERS, and DANCERS for HHS's student-run spring musical. This is the only the first round of auditions, so you will only need to prepare a short song. Please DO NOT sing a song from West Side Story. There will be a short cold read provided, so you do NOT have to prepare a monologue. Dance auditions will be conducted at callbacks. If you are selected for a callback, we will contact you individually. If you have any questions, contact us at westside.HHS@gmail.com. Break a leg!

 _Sincerely,_  
Arthur Kirkland - Director  
Wang Ho Kam - Assistant Director  
Roderich Edelstein - Music Director  
Maddie Williams - Stage Manager  
Francis Bonnefoy - Choreographer

He sighed. It would have to do. A glance up at the hallway clock told him that if he didn't make it out of there in three minutes, he'd miss his bus.

Hightailing it down the hall, Arthur threw himself against the heavy front doors of the school. The only thing that the extra theatrics served to do was to have him slip on the steps, where newly fallen snow had been lying in wait.

"DAMNIT!" ~~~~

He got to his feet and brushed the melting snow off his pants, just to see the back of the public bus cheerfully rumbling away.

" _GOD_ DAMNIT!"

* * *

 

A few blocks away, Lovina Vargas kicked open the front door to her house, not caring about the muddy smudge the tip of her boot created on the wood. Stomping indoors, she dropped her coat onto the floor and made a beeline for the living room. Throwing herself into the largest, squishiest armchair, she buried her face into the armrest and groaned.

Lovina hadn't enjoyed the first half of the year at her new school, and the first day of winter semester hadn't thrilled her, either. That past summer, her mother had received an unexpected job offer all the way back in Italy, to help some literary journal get started. It was something stable, well-paid, and irresistible to Ms. Roma’s penchant for being involved in daring new projects, regardless of whether they succeeded or not. The only problem was that there was no accommodation for two teenage girls included in the deal. So Lovina and Feliciana had packed up their things, been shoved into a car, and then deposited on their grandfather’s doorstep four hours away in the city.

“You’ll like it,” their mother had assured them. “There are always a lot of things to do there. I’m sure both of you will end up being too busy to call me anyway.”

Lovina, having claimed shotgun, rolled her eyes skeptically. Feliciana, lodged between boxes that hadn’t fit in the trunk, bounced up and down.

“Mama, will Francis and Auntie Monica be nearby too?”

Lovina gritted her teeth at the mention of her cousin. All he ever did was tease her whenever there was a family reunion. Now that they’d be in daily visitation distance, she could only see misery in the near future.

“Not exactly. They have a flat downtown. Grandpa’s house is quite a walk from there. But you’ll be going to the same school.”

And it was this school, Hetalia High, which Lovina had now been attending for about four months. She still didn’t care for it, but Feliciana had been quick to make friends – she’d even found a best friend. Given a couple of weeks, he might have even reached boyfriend status, but Lovina had threatened that blond dumbass with bodily harm if any evidence of _inappropriate doings_ were to be found. She had also decided that she would be the sole judge of that.

Lovina had also found the city to be quite daunting and full of things she didn't particularly care about. Feliciana, always the innocent and trusting half, had dived into everything headfirst. She was always skipping out of the house, excited to spend a day with her friends at art galleries, fashion boutiques, concerts, or any other event happening downtown. Feliciana often begged Lovina to join her, but the elder sibling did not want to endure the company of “that macho potato.” When Feliciana suggested a few school clubs to participate in, Lovina had covered herself in a blanket and hummed loudly until Feliciana gave up and left her alone.

Feliciana’s busy schedule and social life more than fulfilled their mother’s expectations, so Lovina became a recluse. Every day, as soon as the last bell rang, she took off in the direction of their house, not stopping for anything until she kicked in the front door. Settling down in Grandpa Roma’s huge armchair, she would read a book…or, as it was more likely, take a nap. School was already so exhausting; how could her mother and Feliciana expect her to get involved with even more crap afterwards?

No sooner had Lovina snuggled into a corner and closed her eyes when the door burst open again.

"Hello! Feli, Lovi? I'm home!"

Leave it to her boisterous grandfather to jolt her from her snooze.

"Lovi, are you there?"

"Yes!" she yelled back, lifting her head irritably. Her grandfather was kicking off his shoes, cans of food clinking loudly in the rustling plastic bags. “ _No_ thanks for ruining my nap.”

"Ah, you can't just lie about the house all the time." He nodded at her as he shuffled by with the groceries, heading towards the kitchen. "Where's Feli?"

Feeling resentful about being forced into conversation, Lovina chose not to answer. Luckily, she didn’t even have to – a jangling of keys, then a scrabbling at the handle, was followed by Feliciana popping the door open again, gasping excitedly through her scarf.

"Lovi, guess what! You’ll just _love_ this –”

"Unless it's a jumbo sized bag of ketchup chips, not interested."

"But, but, hear me out!"

"Feli, weren't you going to your friend Kiki's today?" Lovina spotted Grandpa Roma unloading his groceries, across the way in the kitchen. Now that she’d spoken of ketchup chips, Lovina realized that a snack wasn’t a bad idea. She watched him more intently as a pair of tomatoes were placed onto the tabletop.

"It's Kiku! Her name is Kiku! Not Kiki! Oh, but Lovi -"

Lovina was not at all pleased at having her attention diverted from the food.

"Look at what they’re doing at school! It’s perfect for you."

_CASTING CALL: WEST SIDE STORY_

"NO! I don’t care what mama said, I don't want to join any stupid club! And you think anyone is perfect for anything."

"Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad!" Grandpa Roma walked over to them, a pear in one hand. Lovina grabbed it from him and took a ravenous bite. Feliciana handed the poster over to him, and they peered down at the words together. "Who knows, it could be a lot of fun. You'll finally meet new people – and hey! Francis is helping out! Maybe he can get you a good part."

"I've been meeting new people all year, Grandpa Roma. Since, you know, I didn't know anyone here. And I don’t want to spend more time with Francis. Every time he sees me, he steals my headband and messes up my hair!"

"Maybe...he thought you looked better that way?"

"You're so clueless sometimes, Feli."

Grandpa Roma ignored the complaints and handed back the flyer to Feliciana. "Are you going to audition?"

"No way! I can’t act. But guess what, when Ludwig saw it – " Lovina frowned. “- he said that maybe later they would need people to play instruments, and then he and I can be part of it too!” Feliciana's eyes shone as her excitement rose. "But I still brought it back for Lovi, since it says that they need singers."

Grandpa Roma blinked in surprise. "You sing?"

"Yeah, she does! Actually, we were both supposed to learn violin together...but after Lovi managed to snap all the strings one go, mama decided that – " Feliciana made air quotes with her fingers. “- that if she is going to be so irresponsible with her instruments, it's better if she's her own instrument!"

"Oh, how wonderful! You could do duets, vocal with accompaniment!"

“I know, right?”

Lovina groaned again. No, she did not do duets. But yes, she did like the singing. In their old town, her music teacher once remarked that Lovina had “very strong lungs.” Whether this was from being exceptionally gifted in vocal performance or exceptionally obstinate in her arguments with the teacher, neither could really tell, but one thing was for sure: Lovina had liked the singing. She now realized that she hadn’t practiced any of it in months. Coming to the city had made her incredibly lazy.

"Well then, I think it’s clear that you _must_ try this."

"What’s with the ‘must’? I don’t have to must anything. Why can’t I just do what I’m doing now?"

"Because you're not doing anything productive by being home all the time. At your age, you need to go out and experience life. Have fun! Make friends! You don’t have to be lonely all the time."

"Who says I'm lonely and I don't have fun?"

"I do." Grandpa Roma folded his arms across his chest and looked down at his granddaughter sternly. "Who knows what might happen if you're here all by yourself? What if Feliciana or I don't come home until it's really late, and you get in trouble?"

Lovina eyed the poster warily. “You’re being overdramatic.”

“Okay, then how about this?” Feliciana clapped her hands earnestly. "We're going to have to send college applications next year! And you don't have any extracurricular stuff at all! That might look bad!”

Lovina groaned. It was just an audition. Who knows, maybe her reputation preceded her and they wouldn't cast her on the grounds of being anti-social. The only problem was that being anti-social meant that nobody knew her well enough to realize this. Well, there was Francis, but he probably wouldn't say anything. He was an ass, but unfortunately, he was a very fair ass.

"Fine, I’ll audition for your stupid play! But you know that you can’t count on me actually getting in!"

"That’s good enough for me! Yaaaay, Lovi!" Feliciana pounced on her sister and began squeezing her tightly.

" _Geez_ , Feli! Get off me before I pass out!" Lovina struggled to break free, standing up, but lost her balance and fell back into the chair.

"But I’m so happy for you!"

As the sisters tussled, Grandpa Roma returned to the kitchen, chuckling.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although this fic has already been posted before, I'd still love comments from readers. So drop a line if you wish. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Stephen Sondheim, and Leonard Bernstein.  
> "O Del Mio Amato Ben" belongs to Stefano and Alberto Donaudy.

* * *

 Zip. Zip. Zip. Zip.

The hood on her sweater tightened up as Lovina fiddled with the strings anxiously. The sign-up sheet had said 3:40. It was now 3:45. She scowled, yanking particularly hard one side. Class was let out at 3:30, and at a brisk walk, it was only a twenty minute walk back to her grandfather’s house. She could have been five minutes away from flopping into the armchair. Five minutes away from her nap – though it was unlikely that she would have been able to sleep, thanks to the butterflies in her stomach. Lovina had carefully chosen her audition slot, the very first time on the very last day. She figured that after seeing so many people, whoever was in charge probably had casted some parts already and would be less inclined to pick her for anything. And the sooner this was over, the sooner she got home.

She absentmindedly fanned a thumb across the pages of her vocal book. There had been quite a lot of digging to find it, even if a quarter of her belongings were still stashed away in boxes. Lovina had practiced only once, just to see if she remembered anything. But Grandpa Roma had come running, so she was forced to showcase her “strong lungs” to an enraptured audience.

Recalling his ecstatic applause, Lovina breathed out a half-groan, half-sigh. She had no idea what today’s’ reception was going to be like. Of course Grandpa Roma thought it was brilliant; he was obligated to say so as family. But these people, they were going to actually judge. That’s why they were called a judging panel. Not that Lovina wanted to be in the stupid musical in the first place, but for some reason, she didn’t want to sound terrible, either...the restless hoodie string froze momentarily as she tried to justify herself. She had received training. She was a _good_ singer. Even Feliciana had nothing on this. So naturally, these panel idiots would _have_ to be impressed!

Suddenly, the door flew open and banged against the wall, which startled her to the point of yelping and dropping the song book. Four people hurried inside, but she didn’t recognize a single face.  Lovina felt all that confidence instantly drain out of her.

The first person she noticed was a tall senior with ash blond hair and very, very thick eyebrows. It was as if a pair of plump caterpillars had decided to take residence on this poor boy’s forehead. Underneath these monstrosities were pale green eyes that darted around the room with a determined, slightly manic apprehension to them. When he opened his mouth, Lovina was surprised to hear a British accent.

"Oh. You must be Lovina. I’m Arthur Kirkland, the director of this show...Really sorry about the lateness. Some issues cropped up." He turned to shoot a look at one of his companions. “Or _else_ we would have been on time!”

Another boy, taller than him, shrugged shamelessly and adjusted his glasses. “You know how the after-school crush is like. And there was a lot of snowfall today, so the floor was absolutely disgusting.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but began to introduce the rest. HK Wang was a slight Asian boy, probably a sophomore, sporting a trendy haircut and outfit. His dark brown eyes gleamed with some inner amusement, the only thing betraying his excellent poker face. Maddie Williams was a sweet looking girl with blonde hair and baby blue doe eyes. They widened as she smiled awkwardly at Lovina, her arms wrapped around several books and a clipboard. The uppity brunet who had refused to ingratiate himself with the sweaty packs of students in the hallways was Roderich Edelstein.

“Assistant director, stage manager, and musical director,” Arthur stated, pointing at each of them in turn.

Lovina stood awkwardly to one side as they busied themselves with setting up desks and chairs. Roderich had produced an electric keyboard out of nowhere and was now plugging it in. She still wasn’t sure whether the audition process had actually started yet. Finally, Arthur, HK, and Maddie (at the same time, to Lovina's horror) whipped out a sheet of paper and a pen, then looked up at her with rapt attention.

Arthur gestured to the slips of paper stacked in front of him. "Would you like to show us your song or your cold read first?"

Lovina just stared at him.

"Hey, here’s a thought," HK said. “We’ve been doing this for five days so we know how things happen. But new people don’t. And it might be useful to let them know what’s going on.” He looked directly at her. “Have you ever auditioned for anything before?”

She shook her head.

"Do you know what _West Side Story_ is about?"

"Not...really?"

"Oh, well, maybe that’s a good place to start."

Arthur coughed sheepishly. "Alright. Lovina, you do know _Romeo and Juliet_ by William Shakespeare, right?"

At this, she frowned, feeling insulted. “Who doesn’t?”

"Okay, fine. Basically, _West Side Story_ is an adaptation of _Romeo and Juliet_. Set in 1950s New York City." Arthur put down his pen. "We open with two opposing gangs, the Jets and the Sharks. The Sharks are comprised of immigrants from Puerto Rico, so the Jets are wary of them taking their territory. The Jets are comprised of working class white boys. Juvenile delinquents, if you may. So this is a race battle too. The Puerto Ricans are severely discriminated against, and the Jets aren't making it any easier for them."

The more he explained the details of the story, the more animated Arthur became. He shifted in his seat, leaning forward on his chair’s first two legs.

"Finally, the Jets challenge the Sharks to an all-out rumble, a fight, to determine who is the true ruler of the streets. However, a former Jet, Tony, meets Maria, the sister of the Sharks' leader, Bernardo. It's love at first sight for them - doomed love. Bernardo instantly takes a dislike to Tony." Arthur took a deep breath. "Maria begs Tony to stop the rumble, but when he gets there, his best friend and leader of the Jets, Riff, is mortally wounded by Bernardo. Tony, in a blind fit of rage, kills Bernardo. Meanwhile, Maria has confided her newfound love to her sister-in-law, the sensual Anita. Anita initially agrees to help them, but the death of Bernardo and more harrassment from the Jets causes her to tell Tony that Chino, Maria's Shark intended, has murdered her in jealousy. Tony runs to Shark territory, begging Chino to kill him too. As Maria appears, completely unharmed, Chino complies with the request. Tony dies in Maria's arms. The show ends with the Jets and Sharks reconciling over this bitter price."

"And that's it in a nutshell," Maddie said, smiling at Lovina.

"A pretty big nutshell," HK remarked. "Thanks for writing the program notes before we've even finished casting, Arthur."

The older boy did nothing except to pick up his pen and roll his eyes.

"Now," Roderich continued, gesturing at the slips of paper again. "A cold read is when we give you a short scene to look over. You don't need to memorize it. We'll have somebody read the other part with you. Don't worry too much about it. So, would you rather begin with singing or the cold read?"

"Um. Singing?"

Roderich turned the keyboard on. "How long have you been singing?"

"...Five years? Around?"

"Oh, interesting. That's quite a while."

"What kind of training? Do you know your voice type?" Arthur demanded.

"Classical. Mezzo to soprano," Lovina answered stiffly.

He blinked. "Sounds like you know your stuff." He started scribbling on his paper. Lovina was horrified to see that Maddie and HK were jotting down notes as well. Luckily for her, Roderich caught her attention.

"Let's test your voice range. Okay, Lovina?"

He might have a stern face, but his calm made him significantly less intimidating than Arthur. Lovina was well aware of the latter's furious scribbling as Roderich led her up and down the keys.

"Wow. High C. Very impressive. You can definitely do more than just mezzo. I'd say you're a legit soprano." He saw the book in Lovina's hands. "What are you going to sing for us?"

"Uh...." She gazed down at her songbook. That was a really good question. "It’s, um. This Italian song. Is it okay if I haven't memorized it?" she asked quickly, realizing she would be completely sunk if they said no.

Roderich glanced at the others before shrugging. "Whatever, why not. You’re literally the first soprano we’ve seen. Would you like a starting note?"

"E flat?"

He paused, fingers suspended in the air over the keyboard. "Sounds like you're not sure."

Lovina gritted her teeth, feeling a blush spreading across her face. "Yes. It's an E flat. E4. The song's A-flat major."

Roderich played her the offending E flat, and the key chord. Then he waited.

Lovina took a deep breath, willing her face to cool down, and began.

_O del mio amato ben, perduto incanto!_   
_Lungi e dagli occhi miei chi m'era gloria e vanto!_   
_Or perle mute stanze sempre lo cerco e chiamo,_   
_Con pieno il cor di speranze..._   
_Ma cerco invan, chiamo incan!_   
_E il pianger m'e si caro, che di pianto sol nutro il cor._

She wanted to shut her eyes from the four faces staring at her in fascination. It was clear that nobody else had been like her in the previous auditions. On one level, she was pleased with being different, but on another, standing out had not been the goal. Now they would actually remember her.

_Mi sembra, senza lui, triste ogni loco._   
_Notte mi sembra il giorno; mi sembra gelo il foco._   
_Se pur talvolta spero di darmi ad altra cura,_   
_Sol mi tormeta un pensiero:_   
_Ma, senza lui, che faro?_   
_Mi par cosi la vita vana cosa senza il mio ben._

The song wasn’t very long, and Lovina finished to a silent panel. Maddie and Roderich looked mildly surprised, their glasses glinting slightly in the light. HK turned to Arthur and suddenly let out a short bark of laughter. The eponymous director was staring at Lovina incredulously, not having moved from the first note to the last, his arms still folded tensely against his chest. Flushing another deep red, Lovina glared at him, grabbed her backpack and ran the hell out of there.

As soon as she left, laughter broke the silence.

“Oh my god, a legit soprano. Who would have thought this high school had a _legit_ soprano?”

“I’ve never seen a face that red.”

“So, like. Maybe this means that prayers and sacrificial offerings to Thespis do work after all. Arthur?”

Arthur grinned and slapped the table. “We finally found her. Goddamn, yes.”

“We finally found our Maria.”

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein.  
> More disclaimers/author notes at the end so I won't spoil this chapter!

Lovina rapidly walked away from the classroom, cheeks still flushed red in spite of the hallway being completely deserted. It was after 4pm. She was furious with herself for being suckered into this entire ordeal. Mentally screaming at Feliciana and Grandpa Roma, Lovina longed to be home, curled up on her favourite armchair and hiding her face in one of the cushions.

_WHAM._

She had made a terrific crash against something after turning far too sharply at a corner. It was a soft something. With hands. Hands that pulled her to her feet, but not before tugging the plastic headband out of her hair and mussing it up.

Ugh.

Francis smirked in what he clearly thought was a big brotherly kind of way. “Ah, Lovi! What’s your big rush, hm? Won’t you stop to give me a hug?...Or a kiss?”

She made a swipe at her headband, but he held it out of her reach. “Ewww, no. And that’s none of your business.”

"Aww, that's no way to talk to your favorite cousin."

"You damn well know that you're not my favorite anything! Give it back!"

 She pounded a fist angrily into his shoulder. Wincing, Francis finally yielded the headband. Lovina made a point to stomp on his foot before running towards the closest school exit. Sticking her tongue out at him, she pushed open the door and disappeared.

* * *

 Francis wiggled his toes, just to make sure nothing was broken. Lovina was usually all bark with no bite, but…he’d become something of a special case, over the years. She’d once thrown _rocks_ at him when they were younger. Maybe, he mused, it was probably a good idea to tone down on the teasing since she was finally in a position to actually kill him off.

...Nah, she wouldn’t. Or would she?

"Hey, Francis!"

Francis turned to see a handsome boy with tousled hair and green eyes strolling towards him, waving excitedly.

"Toni! What are you still doing here?"

"I'm auditioning for Arthur's musical thing. You _will_ help me get in, right?" Antonio flashed him an enigmatic smile, dimples winking.

"Of course. In any way possible. Even if it means groping said director."

Antonio laughed. "Where's Gill? If you're finally out of detention then she should be too."

Francis shrugged. "She spent the first fifteen minutes arguing with the teacher and trying to sneak out, so that got her fifteen minutes more."

The boys sighed and shook their heads. As unfortunate as it was, the news was completely unsurprising. The third part of their team often had her punishments extended. Francis, Antonio and Gillian had been best friends ever since their childhood days. It all began on the first day of kindergarten, when Gillian had climbed to the top of the jungle gym and declared that if anyone was awesome enough to join her, she would agree to be their friend. Antonio had eagerly climbed up and they instantly hit it off. Francis followed somewhat reluctantly, and it was only much later when he and Gillian bonded...in a hospital emergency room. But that is a completely different story.

Though the threesome never had any malicious intent, various teachers, parents, and babysitters throughout the years soon grew to mistrust their presence, and it came to be known to most adults that it was best if the three were separated as much as possible. However, that on its own was a difficult task, even with putting them in separate classes.

Now that they were finally in their senior year - particularly the second semester - the teachers had been slacking off and seemed to care less whether they were in the same classes or not. It still didn't mean Francis and Gillian had gotten away with skipping language arts to build snow sculptures all over the parking lot. It seemed that one of the math teachers had not been thrilled to see his car trapped within a half-built igloo and had personally delivered them to the detention hall himself.

"She's still pissed that they didn't let her finish her snow-chick."

"But why didn’t you guys tell me?” Antonio pouted.

“Well, I thought you really liked home ec...”

"Uh....Antonio?"

A hesitant voice interrupted their conversation. The pair turned to see Maddie standing in the doorway. "You can come in for your audition now."

"Thanks!...um..." Antonio was at a loss. This girl looked so familiar, but he just couldn't find the name.

" _Madeleine!_ You look lovely today." Francis was delighted to find someone new to pounce upon. Sidling up to her, he leaned in close. “Seems like we haven’t spoken in a whi-”

"Oi! Stop harrassing my stage manager, you dirty frog!"

Antonio laughed as his friend just threw his arm over Maddie's shoulders and ushered her in. Following suit, the first thing he noticed was a visibly irked Arthur.

"What do you want? I told you, we don't need you right now. I'll let you know about the callbacks."

"Oh, I know. Calm down, Artie. Don’t...what’s the term again? Ah, yes. Get your knickers in a twist." Francis tossed his head oh so nonchalantly as he pulled up another chair to the panel. "But I couldn't resist a chance at giving my friend here some moral support."

"Hey Arthur," HK said, rereading his notes. "We forgot to give Lovina her cold read."

Arthur handwaved that comment aside. "She really didn't need one."

A look of comprehension dawned upon Francis’s face.

“... _Lovina_ auditioned?” He shook his head in amazement. “Damn. How could I have missed that?”

"Who's Lovina?" Antonio asked curiously.

"Never you mind," Arthur told him. He pulled out a new sheet of paper. "I'm assuming Francis told you about the premise of _West Side Story_?" Antonio nodded. "Good, then I don't need to repeat myself. Song or cold read first?"

"What?"

Arthur sighed. "I'm getting tired of explaining this every time. A cold read is reading a scene for us without knowing it first. As in literally, you just read it to us."

"Huh?"

"Just...sing first, okay? Range test, Roderich."

After it was confirmed that Antonio could go for either baritone or tenor, the panel asked to hear the song he'd prepared. Antonio felt excited. He had been working on this for the past few days. Granted, most of the practicing had been conducted in the shower, and the classroom was not even a bit close to being so echoey...so he hoped he didn't sound too bad.

_I've never been in love before,_   
_Now all at once it's you,_   
_It's you forevermore._   
_I've never been in love before,_   
_I thought my heart was safe,_   
_I thought I knew the score..._   
_But this is wine that's all too strange and strong,_   
_I'm full of foolish song,_   
_And now my song must pour..._   
_So please forgive this helpless haze I'm in,_   
_I've really never been in love before._

There he paused. "That's kind of it."

"Great, great. That was great, Antonio. You can stop," Arthur handed him a slip of paper. "Read this over. It's your cold read - you're going to read this scene with Maddie. Not out loud yet. You'll be Tony. Tell me when you're ready."

"Okay!" Antonio examined the piece of script that had just been handed to him. _Scene Five. 11:00 P.M. A back alley. A suggestion of buildings; a fire escape climbing to the rear window of an unseen flat_. Sounded interesting so far. _Tony looks for where Maria lives, wishing for her. And she does appear, at the window above him, which opens onto the fire escape_. _He calls out to her_.

 _Wishing for her._ Antonio found that to be a tad dramatic. Luckily, he didn’t mind dramatic stories...and from what Francis had told him, this was definitely dramatic. But at the same time, he didn’t want to make it sound cheesy. There was a difference between dramatic and cheesy. How was he going to do it? Antonio stared at the words. Maybe he couldn’t relate to something like that – he was only seventeen – but he could try. He could pretend like there was something he wished for so badly. That’s what acting is anyway, right?

Maddie cleared her throat again. “So...ready?”

"Sure!" He straightened up, eyes flickering down one more time.

 _Wishing for her_.  
  
"Maria..."

"Please, if Bernardo..."

"He's at the dance. Come down!"

"He will soon bring Anita home."

"Just for a minute, then."

"A minute is not enough."

"For an hour, then!"

"I cannot."

"FOREVER!"

"Shhh!"

Maddie looked up from her clipboard and turned to Arthur. Antonio grinned triumphantly. This was easy.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Roderich had to admit that Antonio's audition hadn't gone too badly. In fact, he had a pretty good idea which role Arthur had in mind...the one written in his notebook in red ink and underlined three times. Roderich could even read it from where he was sitting, three people away. Probably the best choice so far, he agreed silently. Having known the boy since elementary school, he knew that Antonio was reliable and easy to work with, even if he was a little spacey. Said space-case had left the room with that same sunny smile, waving to Francis as he stepped out the door.

There was nobody listed in for the next slot. Roderich reached into his book bag and took out a novel on Chopin. Might as well relax.

“Hey, Mads! What’s up? Is this the auditions thing? Can I do mine now?”

Arthur groaned.

Roderich blinked. A well-built junior stood beaming in the doorway. Glancing at Maddie, then at the new auditionee, Roderich’s first thought was that the two could be twins. Judging by the incredulous look on Maddie's face, they probably were related. And judging by the look on Arthur's face, he probably didn't act anything like Maddie.

She had dropped her pen in shock. “Alfred?”

"What are you doing here, you git? Shouldn't you be at basketball practice or something?" Arthur’s pen, in comparison, was being so tightly gripped that his knuckles were nearly white.

"Not doin’ it this year."

"What? Why? Aren't you the bloody captain or something?"

"Because, I. I wanna do your play thing!"

An awkward silence filled the room as everyone stared at Arthur, who was fuming furiously.

"Again... _why_?"

Alfred stuck his chin outwards defiantly. “Because I _want_ to. You can’t stop me. It’s a free country!”

The boys stared hard at each other, both unwilling to step down. Finally, HK spoke up.

“We’ve got time right now. As long as we finish in fifteen minutes, it’s fine.”

Arthur tossed his pen onto his notebook, letting out a noncommittal grunt as he folded his arms. A huge grin returned to Alfred’s face.

“So! Because it’s a musical, I have to like, sing something. Right? What kind of song do you want?”

Roderich reluctantly put away his book. "Any song. We just need to know how you sound like."

"Great! What about this one?"

Before Roderich could respond, Alfred slid to his knees and began to belt as loud as he could.

_TOMMY USED TO WORK ON THE DOCKS_   
_UNION'S BEEN ON STRIKE, HE'S DOWN ON HIS LUCK_   
_IT'S TOUGH..._   
_SO TOUGH!_

Being Alfred, this meant it was really, really loud.

_GINA WORKS A DINER ALL DAY_   
_WORKIN' FOR HER MAN, SHE BRINGS HOME HER PAY_   
_FOR LOVE..._   
_OOOOOH, FOR LOVE!_

_WE GOT TO HOLD ON TO WHAT WE GOT!_   
_IT DOESN'T MAKE A DIFFERENCE IF WE MAKE IT OR NOT!_   
_WE GOT EACH OTHER, AND THAT'S A LOT FOR LOVE..._   
_WE'LL GIVE IT A SHOT!_

Roderich winced at the evident strain in the higher notes. In spite of that, this wasn’t a half-bad belting range. He would put him down as a tenor.

_WHOAAAAA WE'RE HALFWAY THERE!  
WHOAAA-OH! LIVIN' ON A PRAYER!_

He looked over to his fellow panelists. Maddie had covered half her face with her hand, though it wasn’t easy to tell whether she was amused or mortified. HK had flipped out his cell phone right away, recording. He claimed that having auditions on record would help them choose later on in the process, but Roderich noticed that the sophomore only captured the craziest performances on video. Francis was wearing that smug expression of amusement which he always had. Arthur wasn’t even watching - head down, fingers rubbing at his temples.

_JUST TAKE MY HAND, AND WE'LL MAKE IT I SWEAR,_   
_WHOAAA-OH! LIVIN' ON A PRAYER!_   
_LIIIIIVIN' ON A PRAAAAAYER!!_

"Alright, you’re done,” snapped Arthur loudly. He had straightened up into his folded-arms-and-scowling position again. “We’ve heard quite enough.”

Alfred looked disappointed. "Aw, but I didn't even get to the guitar solo yet."

Roderich decided to cut in before Arthur had a chance to say something unpleasant. “We apologize. It’s just that we’re short on time and that was enough for us to make a decision.”

Alfred returned to his feet, rubbing his knees. “Cool! So does that mean I get a part?”

"...Maybe. Could you read this over?" HK handed him one of the cold reads. "We’re going to try you out with a scene. Let’s have you read for...”

Alfred accepted the paper with eager eyes. Roderich glanced from his tall figure to Arthur’s hunched over one. The news that this particular student was an athlete explained a lot: he rarely poked his head out of the practice rooms in the music department. He also made it a very pronounced point to steer clear of smelly locker rooms and gyms populated by sports players who were hazardous to one’s health. So naturally, he would never have met Alfred before. But there was still one huge unexplained issue present – what happened between Arthur and Alfred? Everybody else seemed to be completely unsurprised by this, so Roderich was left hanging.

Their auditionee snickered at one of the lines in the cold read. He seemed like a very friendly and enthusiastic person, probably an asset to the cast as somebody dedicated to the show. If, Roderich reflected, Arthur would put aside whatever prejudice he had to let him in.

"Dude! _Sperm to worm_? Who says stuff like that?"

Arthur stopped rubbing the floor with the toe of his shoe and looked up murderously. Roderich sighed.

* * *

Maddie felt like the rope in a tug of war match. Technically, she was supposed to be Arthur’s subordinate here, but Alfred was her brother. It was rather complicated to explain, but during the previous year she and Alfred had discovered that they were related – born to the same birth mother, but adopted by different families. An amazing stroke of luck had landed them both at the same high school. Between a small identity crisis, bizarre family discussions, being able to _meet_ their birth mother and her first involvement in a Hetalia High theatre production, that year had been absolutely crazy for Maddie. Alfred had automatically been thrilled to acquire a new sibling, but the truth was that they had very different interests. She truly didn’t expect him to try out for the school musical.

Arthur had excused himself to use the restroom the moment Alfred’s audition ended. Francis had followed suit, not passing up the chance to heckle his favourite victim in such a vulnerable place. This gave her brother a chance to linger as Roderich cracked open his book again.

“So, what did you think? Am I in?” Alfred leaned across the table, squinting down at her notes.

She covered them up with one arm. “Hey! It’s not just for _me_ to decide. Be patient!”

“But isn’t today like the last day? Tell me nowwww.” He turned to HK. “Come on!”

“You said it yourself. It’s the last day, so we’ll release results really soon,” HK pointed out.

“Pleeeeeease?”

“No!”

“Fine.” Without warning, Alfred dropped the subject like a hot potato. “Then I’m going to shoot some hoops. Since, you know. I can’t really do the team this year now. See ya!”

He left cheerily, still humming snatches of his audition song to himself. When he was out of earshot, Maddie felt a tap on her shoulder.

Roderich had set down his book for one moment. “Hey, Madeleine. What was...all _that_ between him and Arthur?”

She sighed. Evidently, her role as the rope was really obvious.

“I actually don’t know. Al always refuses to talk about it. And honestly, I’m kind of too scared to ask Arthur...you know how he gets. And this one...” She turned and looked pointedly at HK. “Won’t say anything.”

Her friend shrugged shamelessly. “I keep my secrets.”

She didn't have time to respond, because the poor, abused door of the classroom they were using banged open again.

"Yo, Roddy! What’s up, you unawesome priss?"

Maddie recognized the voice right away. It was Roderich's turn to groan.

Gillian Beilschmidt, finally out of detention, had made it to her audition. Sauntering over to the keyboard, she grabbed Roderich’s book. “Who’s this guy, your grandpa? Even he looks less prissy than you, and that’s saying a lot.”

Roderich chose to answer with a long sigh. Gillian tossed the book back to him and turned to Maddie. “Maddie! What’s up, awesome?”

“Um. Hi, Gillian.”

“Who else was here today?”

“Only three other people…someone new, named Lovina, then Antonio, and then Alfred.”

“What, I missed Toni’s audition? Boo, that sucks!”

"Then you should have showed up sooner, or at least keep your nose out of trouble for once." Arthur had returned, but his original demeanor had returned, being used to Gillian. Maddie wondered whether he’d forgiven her, though, for what was now the infamous crashing of last year’s play. But Arthur’s face was inscrutable – at least his scruples dictated a fair audition.

“But where’s Fran-fran? He got out before me!”

Right on cue, Francis strolled back in. “Right here. I know you want a cheering section.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, and Gillian laughed. “Hells yeah! Now shall we get on with my _awesome_ audition? Imma blow you guys out of the water."

Roderich sighed. "Fine. Do you know your range?"

"Sure. It's from awesome to totally awesome."

Maddie stifled a giggle. She'd always admired the older girl's confidence. Gillian noticed this and flashed her a smile.

Roderich was less amused. "I mean your vocal range."

"Isn't that what _you're_ for?"

He grimaced and turned on the keyboard again. "Fine, we'll test it. And I want to hear you belt, Gill, because I know you can."

Francis laughed, and even Arthur found it funny. And when Roderich began leading her through the scale, it was clear that he was right. Gillian was definitely the brassiest belter they'd heard so far (though Alfred could probably give her a run for her money), but her range was fairly small.

"Alto," Roderich announced.

"Do you have a song for us?" Arthur asked.

Gillian smirked. "Well, yeah. Really special, too." She looked pointedly at Roderich, who automatically tensed up.

_You walked into the party,_   
_Like you were walkin' onto a yacht._   
_Your hat strategically dipped below one eye,_   
_Your scarf, it was apricot._   
_You had one eye in the mirror as,_   
_You watched yourself gavotte._   
_And, all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner,_   
_They'd be your partner, yeah...._

Gillian was surprisingly good in her lower range, maintaining a velvety, sultry tone. Maddie took a quick peek around the panel. Francis was smiling in approval, while HK maintained his perfect poker face. Arthur was busy scribbling notes. Roderich was staring at the ceiling, but he wouldn't be for long.

_YOU'RE SO VAIN_

Suddenly, Gillian Beilschmidt had her palms planted on the keyboard's surface as she belted into Roderich Edelstein's face.

_YOU PROBABLY THINK THIS SONG IS ABOUT YOU,_   
_YOU'RE SO VAA-YA-AIN,_   
_I BETCHA THINK THIS SONG IS ABOUT YOU!_   
_DON'T YOU!_   
_DON'T YOOOOOU!!_

"Thank you, Gillian, that's enough," Arthur said drily as Francis threw his head back and laughed again. Maddie felt sorry for Roderich, but his scandalized reaction was absolutely priceless.

Gillian slowly pulled away from the keyboard, a Cheshire grin splashed across her face. Roderich resembled a person who had just finished a roller coaster ride, breathless and in shock. HK raised his phone and snapped a photo to document it all.

Arthur ignored all of this. "Let's just get on with it, Gill. Here's your cold read."

Gillian accepted it confidently. "It will be the -"

"Most awesome cold read we've ever heard, we get it," Roderich muttered. He received a paper airplane to the head. Maddie was surprised at the speed in which Gillian had folded it. But since it was Roderich, all could just assume that her instincts were at doubled speed.

* * *

Another fifteen minutes later, after an awesome cold read followed by an awesome argument between Gillian and Arthur over it, the awesome Gillian Beilschmidt sauntered out of the classroom, slamming the door in the process. It was amazing how its hinges were still intact.

The panel stirred from their positions. It had been a tiring, yet highly productive day, four very different auditions, all of them also very memorable in their own way. Maddie, Arthur and HK started putting away their notes as Francis helped Roderich move the keyboard back to its original position in the closet. Nobody noticed when the door silently opened once more.

HK was the first to notice, after he zipped up his messenger bag. "Didn't Gillian slam the door?"

Roderich stuck his head out of the closet. "Yes, she definitely did. There is no other way she closes one."

HK pointed. Looking up, the rest of the panel gaped in shock.

There was a very tall boy standing in the doorframe, his broad shoulders leaving little room at either side. Dressed in a long grey coat with a pale pink scarf around his neck, he looked like somebody who was just about to leave, as they were. But the thing was that Ivan Braginski always continued wearing his coat indoors, for some strange reason. He was well known for the eerie aura that emanated around him – every student at Hetalia High tried to stay out of his way. Nobody really understood why Ivan seemed so frightening; he’d never actually done anything harmful to anybody. At least, not yet.

He took another step into the room and the others shrank back. "Oh, no. Am I late?"

Arthur was the first to speak. "Um, late for what?"

"For the _West Side Story_ auditions, Arthur."

There was the most abominably awkward silence after that statement. Arthur cleared his throat. “Er...well, we’re done for the day. But thank you for expressing your interest, Ivan...I will still include you in our plans.

Ivan stared at him intently. "Really?"

Arthur nodded fervently.

"Yes, yes, I will. Actually, I can even think of a good role for you right now. Just check your email this weekend."

Ivan smiled, his face lighting up. "Alright, then! I’ll be waiting." He turned to walk away, scarf twitching behind him.

The five panelists all breathed a sigh of relief. But before they could move, Ivan’s face reappeared in the doorway.

“Wait, do you know my email?”

Arthur blinked. “Er...”

“Here, let me write it down for you.”

Francis and Maddie bolted out from their places behind Arthur as Ivan neared them. HK slid out from behind the desks with his messenger bag, shrugging in apology as he also left. Roderich was nowhere to be seen. He had already gone.

Ivan finished writing with a flourish of his pen. “Thank you so much again! I look forward to rehearsals.”

He left the room humming happily. Arthur closed his notebook with a sigh of relief.

“Well, that wasn’t bad. So…”

He paused and looked around, finally noticing his panelists’ desertion.

“Bloody gits! Making me tidy everything up myself!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I've Never Been in Love Before" from the musical Guys and Dolls belongs to Frank Loesser.  
> "Livin' On a Prayer" belongs to Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, and Desmond Child.  
> "You're So Vain" belongs to Carly Simon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein.

Lovina clutched a pillow to her chest and stared blankly at her computer screen. When she had arrived home earlier that day, her pestering relations had been incessant about wanting to know all about her audition – to the point that she had retreated from the armchair to upstairs. Fortunately, she managed to evade any in-depth interrogation throughout dinner, then had barred herself in her bedroom again afterwards. Unfortunately, an unread email was waiting for her.

_Dear Auditionee,_

_Congratulations! You have been invited to the callbacks for WEST SIDE STORY. This is your opportunity to really show off your talent, and maybe nab a role. Please pay attention to the following information carefully:_

_The callbacks will be held in the auditorium directly after class finishes this coming Monday. If you are going to be late, let us know. You will not be required to bring anything apart from your best behavior and comfortable clothes to move around in. The main component of the callbacks is to see your dancing ability._

_In addition, some of you may be requested to stay behind after the main portion in case we want to have you read a scene or try a song. Be prepared for this. If you are not asked, this does not mean that we are not considering you for the show, it simply means that we already have a good idea of what we want from you._

_Thank you again for auditioning, and see you Monday afternoon!_

_Sincerely,  
Arthur Kirkland, Director_

She reread the entire message in horror. So now they wanted her to prance around and make a right fool of herself – this time in front of dozens of other people too. If that was the case, then forget it. Grandpa Roma and Feliciana could whine all they wanted at her, but Lovina didn’t care.

Almost by magic, a new unread email appeared in her inbox.

_Lovina,_

_Don't worry about going to the general callbacks. Just be at the auditorium at 4:15. Don't worry about dancing or anything; just be there. Thanks._

_\- Arthur_

Lovina stared at the screen. Though relieved, the timing was just unsettling. Before she could even begin to consider her options, the door to her room burst open.

“Hey, Lovi! I was talking to Ludwig on the phone and I heard Gillian saying she got a callback to the whatsit, the callbacks! Did you get one? If you did it means they like you...!"

Before Lovina could close her browser window, Feliciana had peered over her shoulder and at the screen.

"YAY! You made it!" Lovina winced at the squeal in her ear. Feliciana bounced back up and flopped onto Lovina’s bed. “I knew you could! And you’ll be so good at this callback, too!”

She froze for a moment, then propped herself up with one arm. “Wait. You'll go, won't you?"

"Do I have to?"

Feliciana stared up at her sister with wide, pleading eyes. "Pleeeaaase? It might be really fun."

Lovina bit her lip. To tell the truth, she _had_ been hoping that she had left a lasting impression upon the panelists – a good one, that was. And although that seemed to be the case, Arthur’s second message seemed cryptically daunting. She hated herself for doing so, but Lovina reluctantly admitted that she still wanted to prove her worth.

"Fine. At least I don't have to dance."

Feliciana squealed again. "Yes! I gotta tell Ludwig!" She hopped off the bed.

"You will tell that potato idiot NOTHING!"

Feliciana grinned as she ducked, the pillow flying cleanly over her head.

* * *

On Monday, Lovina approached the auditorium at exactly 4:13 PM. She was only a few feet from the doors when they burst open, a gaggle of boys trotted out. They seemed to be a lively bunch, chattering excitedly, with some still singing snatches of song. One of them caught her staring and flashed her a friendly grin.

"Looking for someone? No drama, mate. They're still doing the Anita's in there!"

So, they were still busy. Lovina had absolutely no intention of walking into the midst of another callback if she didn’t have to be there. She could hear the voices within clearly.

"Okay, for you guys, we're going to use the opening bars from 'America'..."

Lovina sat at the door for fifteen more minutes, listening in confusion to the voices within. She could identify Arthur and Roderich, but there seemed to be an entire ocean of others in there as well. Suddenly, Lovina was struck with a thought: what if she was expected to now sing – or dance (she didn’t feel too trusting of him at the moment, especially considering that she had just heard him threaten one of the auditionees...though Roderich had been yelling too) – alongside a crowd of competitive girls too? Lovina groaned and rested her head against the wall. She really wasn’t _that_ ambitious...

The doors flew open again, and a passel of girls trailed out, not noticing her crouching to the side. Lovina took a deep breath, stood up, and peered inside.

She recognized the panel immediately. Arthur, Maddie and HK were deep in conversation, holding up photographs and comparing them. Francis sat a distance apart, laughing and jabbering away carelessly to a pale-haired girl and another boy, whose back was towards her. Roderich stood next to his keyboard, looking pained as a girl wearing flower clips in her long, wavy hair tugged at his sleeve urgently.

"Roddy, if you pick her over me, you have a _lot_ to make up for."

The seated girl perked up at this and turned around, smirking widely.

"But it's not just my decision," Roderich protested. "Arthur and Francis have a say too. Don't take it personally, Elizabeta."

"Yeah, Liz," called Francis's friend. "It's not your fault! I'm just more awesome than you!"

Elizabeta rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up, Gill. You don't even know who's got the part yet."

The girls exchanged dangerous stares before Elizabeta eventually marched out of the auditorium. Lovina was petrified. Who would have thought high school musical auditions could be this intense?

Roderich sighed. “Don’t look so concerned...they’re just _always_ like that...”

Arthur finally looked up and noticed Lovina.

"Oh, good, you're here. We can finally get these bloody auditions over with." He leaned back in his chair, twisting his head around to look at Francis and his friends. "Hey, Antonio!"

The boy finally turned around. He had the greenest eyes Lovina had ever seen, although it could be because of his slightly darker skin. They stared unblinkingly straight at her, and she bit her lip, triyng to look away.

"Since we forgot to give Lovina her read during her first audition, I want you two to do the scene where -"

"Hey Artie, I gotta go really soon," interjected Gillian. "Can I do whatever you want me to first?"

Arthur paused, clearly irritated at having been interrupted. Gillian certainly didn't look as if she was in any particular hurry at all, casually leaning back on the desk she was sitting on, one leg propped up on a chair.

"Fine. Beilschmidt, you're up. Lovina, take this scene. You're Maria, and Gill, you're Anita. Look over it first."

Lovina accepted the slip of paper cautiously. The knot in her stomach tightened as her eyes swiftly flew over the words. How was she expected to act this? In the first place, why did she agree to pretend she could act? Lovina had never seen a live play in her life. And what’s more, she could still feel that stare burning into the back of her head. A burn was beginning to grow on her cheeks, too.

There was a sudden nudge at her side. Lovina squawked, and Gillian grinned.

"Don't be nervous. My awesomeness will inspire you!"

Before she could stop herself, Lovina rolled her eyes. Sensing alleviated fear, Arthur shouted, “Begin!”

"Por favor, Anita. Make the neck lower."

Gillian drew herself up and gave Lovina her most haughty look. "Stop it, Maria!"

"One inch. What can one little inch do?"

"Too much!"

"Anita, it is to be a dress for dancing, no longer for kneeling at the altar!"

"With those boys, you can start in dancing and end up kneeling."

Francis snickered at the line.

"Querida, one little inch, uno poca poca -"

"Bernardo made me promise!"

"Ai, Bernardo! One month I have been in this country -" Lovina squinted at the page. "Do I even touch excitement? I sew all day, I sit all night. For what did my fine brother bring me here?"

This Maria character sounded like a whiny little creature. Lovina grimaced. The rest of the scene looked just as sappy.

"To marry Chino."

"When I look at Chino, nothing happens."

"What do you expect to happen?"

"I don't know. Something. What happens when you look at Bernardo?"

Gillian paused, using the moment to take back the spotlight. "It's when I don't look at him that it happens."

Francis and Antonio bayed with laughter, and the corners of Roderich's mouth twitched a little. Arthur looked unconcerned as he waved Gillian off.

"Alright, you're done; go to wherever you want to be to do whatever you want to do."

With another smirk and a wave of her hand, Gillian sauntered out the doors of the auditorium, _still_ not looking as if she was in a rush. Lovina continued to stand awkwardly.

"Okay. Lovina, you're going to read the Dance scene with Antonio. He's Tony, you're Maria."

Green Eyes hopped to his feet and started towards her. Still staring, but now with this ridiculous-looking grin plastered over his face. Lovina glared, a feeling of suspicion beginning to awake at the pit of her stomach. This elicited no reaction, even when HK handed them another paper to read.

What an idiot. Lovina pointedly raised her page directly in front of her face – to block him out, of course, not to hide the fact that she was beginning to blush furiously. Of course not! And not because it was really, really difficult to concentrate on these lines...

But after a few seconds, she couldn't bear it anymore and whirled around.

"What's your problem?" She demanded. "Is there something wrong with me? Or do you need someone to tell you what you're supposed to be doing? I can help you with that. The lines are on that paper in your hand, not my face, you dumbass!"

He finally started. “Oh!” Lovina shrank back. Maybe she shouldn’t have called him a dumbass.

"...Hey, you’re cute when you blush!"

Lovina gaped. Antonio merely beamed at her, evidently pleased at his answer-which-wasn’t-an-answer.

"What?" she squeaked.

"You have a really round face," he continued to observe blithely. “Wow, that’s really red! Haha, imagine if your round, red face turned into a tomato?”

Okay. So he wasn’t being a sleazebag. He was just loony.

“Don't touch me, you creepy bastard!"

"Are you two finshed yet?" Arthur called. Apparently nobody else in the room had noticed the exchange between them.

"Sure!" Antonio sang out. It was as if he hadn't noticed it either.

He glanced down at his paper – for the very first time – and began.

"You're not thinking I'm someone else?"

His voice had gone from bright and cheerful to soft and earnest in an instant. Startled, Lovina hastily returned to her script.

"I know you are not."

"Or that we have met before?"

"I know we have not."

"I felt...I knew something never before was going to happen, had to happen. But this is..."

Antonio paused and waited for Lovina to interrupt, but she was staring at him in amazement. Where had he gone - the vapid, cheerful boy that had stood there moments ago?

He gently cleared his throat. Flushing red once again, her eyes darted back down to her paper.

"My hands are cold." Before she could do anything, he grabbed her free hand. "Yours too." He was squeezing it now. Lovina had to resist the urge to pull away. "So warm." At that, he had placed her hand on his face.

What.

She could have screamed. Antonio smiled at her, obviously not recognising the universal facial expression for steeling oneself for murder. Lovina seriously considered pinching his stupid cheek until he guided her hand back to her face.

And for some absolutely unfathomable reason, that action made her freeze.

"Yours too," Antonio said happily.

"B-but of course. They are the same," Lovina stammered.

"It's so much to believe - you're not joking me?"

"I...I have not yet learned to joke that way. Now I think I never will."

The lines stopped there. And Antonio didn’t remove his hand from her burning cheek.

"Excellent, excellent," Arthur breathed, looking as if he'd won an all expenses paid trip to Disney World. The rest of the panel merely looked relieved, though Francis winked smugly.

Antonio beamed at Lovina again, and before she could react, quickly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear before stepping back.

She wanted to punch something in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No cast list this time! But it will be in the next chapter, I solemnly promise. Casting was how I got the ball rolling on this story anyway...I actually have a great deal of fun Hetalia-casting all sorts of plays and musicals, but this was the only one I ever felt a desire to actually fictionalize into writing.


	5. Chapter 5

THWACK.

Lovina threw her entire weight against her locker, grunting as she struggled to close it before anything fell out. Fumbling with the lock, one shoulder still pressed tightly against the door, she didn't notice a pen bouncing along the floor. The ink escapee rolled away, coming to rest a few feet away, against the frayed end of a dirty shoelace. A dirty shoelace that was threaded through a worn-out Converse high-top, which, along with its counterpart, was currently on the feet of one dark haired, green eyed boy.

Lovina was so immersed in her task that she didn't notice until she had finally forced the metal door shut. As she hefted her backpack onto her shoulder, she was startled by a tap on the shoulder, causing her to yelp in surprise.

"Hey!" Antonio scratched the back of his head and held out the pen. "Well, you dropped this!"

She snatched it back, glowering at him. "What do you want now?"

"Nothing." Then he brightened. "Unless you want to ride home with me?"

"I...uh..." Lovina quickly turned around to hide her reddening face. "NO!" She began to march down the hall. This was getting too much – auditions, meeting a slew of crazy people all at once, and now this freaky guy was trying to talk to her. She had all the best luck in the world.

"But, wait" She quickened her pace. "It’s fine, I have a car! Where do you live?"

"Like I’m gonna tell you!" Lovina looked over her shoulder to spit the retort back at him, and noticed that he was following her. And gaining ground. Letting out a panicked squeak, she tore down the hallway at top speed.

Antonio had not expected such a little girl to run so fast.

Crashing through the double doors - just as Arthur had done so only weeks before – Lovina skidded on the trampled snow outside, rolling down the stairs and into the huge snowbank waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. It was not as fluffy as it looked.

"Lovina!"

She was unceremoniously yanked out from the pile by the elbows. Because of this, she landed unsteadily on her feet and slipped again, this time into the arms of a concerned Antonio.

"Aww, Lovi - can I call you that? - You should have been more careful. It's dangerous running around like that in the wintertime. Look, you're covered in snow!"

Though it really didn't feel all that cold, Lovina couldn’t move, prefectly frozen as Antonio began to carelessly sweep away the rapidly melting ice from her coat. Still rambling, his hands quickly dusted off her hair, her shoulders, her sides, and her che-

She leapt up as if scalded and shrieked, "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, PERVERT?!"

Antonio stopped, confused. Then he began to blush as the implications dawned upon him.

"OH! Sorry – I didn’t mean to – it was just that –"

"I can take care of myself!" She pushed him away. “Leave. Me. ALONE.”

"But it's snowi-"

"I don’t care." Lovina snapped up the hood of her coat, and did her best to ignore the icy wetness that slid down her neck.

"Well…" Antonio made one last attempt. “You want a ride home?”

"I never said I wanted one, and I never will."

Lovina stalked away, and it took a lot of effort for Antonio to not call out again as she nearly slipped on the pavement again. Perhaps the best thing was to heed her wishes and leave her alone. On the other hand, they were going to be in the musical together anyway (Francis had seemed pretty confident about that), so maybe he should just try even harder to establish some sort of relationship. Friendship. Something! She couldn’t ignore him forever!

Still, Lovina had seemed genuinely upset. And he’d definitely messed up just now, with the snow…

He continued watching the girl pick her way down the street, not really knowing what else there was to do. As she jumped over a slush puddle, the bright red hood slipped off her head, revealing slightly wavy auburn hair, locks bouncing merrily in time to her steps.

By the time she had disappeared around the corner, Antonio had his mind firmly made up.

* * *

Callbacks lasted much longer than the panelists had expected, with the clock chiming five o’clock by the point they had cleaned up the auditiorium. Arthur stubbornly refused anything other a unanimous decision, so he invited each of them (yes, including Francis) to his house to finalise the cast list. He even promised free dinner, but this was only met with enthusiasm after he also had to promise that he would not be the chef. As he lived quite a distance away, it was nearly six when the five of them trooped up the snow-covered walk.

"Artie," Francis breathed, staring up at the austere brick walls. "Your home is enormous."

Arthur was busily digging through his backpack for keys. "Well, what did you expect? I have four brothers." He finally got the door open.

They scrambled in, eager to get away from the chilly wind that had been nipping at them the moment they had left the bus. Arthur sighed as they shed their coats and boots.

"My mum's going to have a fit when she sees all the puddles."

"I see where you get your control freak tendencies then," Francis noted.

"Oh shut up," Arthur huffed. He pointed at the large staircase in front of them. "After that, turn left and just keep going straight up. And I mean straight."

HK nodded and began ascending the steps, the rest following him. The first floor had a spacious parlour, along with two other doors that, Arthur told them, were the master bedroom and a guest bedroom. The second landing held three silent oak doors, each with a sign upon it: "Daryn," "Malcolm," and "Rory."

"Assholes," Arthur muttered irritably, stomping past them.

They reached the end of the hallway, where stout rope pull led to a sliding trapdoor. As Arthur grabbed the end, an odd shout was heard from within, causing all of them to jump with surprise.

Arthur grimaced. "Oh, for the love of God..." He yanked down the ladder and launched himself up into the attic.

"Hah! Take that!" As Roderich poked his head through the opening, he saw what looked like a smaller version of Arthur dancing excitedly in front of a large television screen, totally immersed in his game.

"Jab, Sora, jab!" Arthur walked over to the kid and plucked the controller out of his hands.

"Jerkface! I just lost to Maleficent!"

"Hello Peter," HK called from the trapdoor. The boy turned to find the clump of older teenagers staring at him.

Arthur switched off the console. "We're going to have a very important meeting, so stop mucking around and go do your homework. Downstairs. Now."

Peter scowled. "Just you wait. One day I'll be stronger than you and kick your butt!"

His brother merely rolled his eyes and pointed at the exit. The rest of the panelists scattered awkwardly to allow room for the angry preteen to leave. After one last glaring contest between the two, Peter finally ducked out of sight.

Arthur groaned and plopped onto the rug. "Sorry about that. That's my youngest brother. He's thirteen and a total pain to share a room with."

"But it’s awesome," Maddie breathed. Arthur and Peter basically had the entire attic to themselves. Not only was there room for video games, but also bookshelves, a drum kit, an electric guitar, model ships, and an entire miniature railroad track that circled one of the beds.

“He’s spoiled rotten,” Arthur lamented as they joined him on the floor.

Pulling out notes, photographs and scripts, the diligent panelists started their arduous task. Full attention was required. With the amount of roles in _West Side Story_ , it was fairly easy to dole out the chorus and smaller parts. They already knew who they wanted for the two leads, but some of the larger supporting roles were proving difficult to place.

"Damnit, who the hell is actually good enough for Bernardo?" Arthur circled the name angrily.

"What about Vash?" HK pointed at the photo of a serious-looking blond boy. "You seemed pretty impressed by his performance."

Arthur shook his head. "You're right, he's an excellent actor and he'll definitely be in the show. But I want to show off his voice too, and Bernardo doesn't really get any solos."

"What we need is a dancer," Roderich said. "And honestly, there aren’t a lot of people who are strong in that department."

Arthur put his pencil down and gritted his teeth. An idea had been forming at the back of his mind since the callbacks, though he had instantly hoped that he wouldn't have to go through with it. Still, his show needed a Bernardo, so he'd cast aside his personal pride if need be.

He turned to Francis, who hadn't been paying attention the entire session, opting instead to fiddle with his smartphone. "Oi. You."

Francis didn't move. "Hm. I thought I heard a sound on the wind."

"Bonnefoy." Finally, the handsome teen deigned to look up. "You used to sing with Antonio, right?"

"Sure. Long ago, we were cherubic choirboys, he and I," Francis put away his phone. "What are you implying?"

"I'm only doing this out of desperation," Arthur snapped. He took a deep breath. "Do you mind taking on another job in this production?"

Francis smirked. "One that entails heading a gang of streetwise Puerto Ricans?"

"...Something like that."

"I suppose I’ll do it. Only for you. Out of the love in my heart." Francis blew him a kiss.

He was rewarded with a classic Arthur Kirland reaction: an indignant squawk coupled with fruitless flailing – it was a completely immaterial kiss, after all. Roderich sighed heavily for the umpteenth time as Maddie wrote down the last name.

"Done," She announced, placing the list in the middle of their circle. Five pairs of eyes gazed down at the single piece of paper. All their hard work for the past two weeks fit into twenty lines.

** CAST **

Tony: _Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo_  
Maria: _Lovina Vargas_  
Anita: _Gillian Beilschmidt_  
Riff: _Alfred Jones_  
Bernardo: _Francis Bonnefoy_  
Lieutenant Shrank: _Mathias Køhler_  
Officer Krupke: _Ivan Braginski_  
Doc: _Toris Lorinatis_  
Gladhand: _Wang Yao_  
Chino: _Sadiq Adnan_  
Anybodys: _Ngyuen Kim Thi  
_ Diesel: _Berwald Oxenstierna_  
Action: _Vash Zwingli_  
Snowboy: _Im Yong Soo  
_ A-Rab: _Adam Smith_  
Baby John: _Raivis Galante_  
Rosalia: _Elizabeta Héderváry_  
Consuela: _Clara Janssens_  
Velma: _Natalya Arlovskaya_  
Graziella: _Tina Väinämöinen_

"You do realize that you've just cast a Spaniard as Tony and an Italian as Maria," HK said to Arthur.

"Shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it’s how I came up with the concept of this fic, it pleases me to be able to release the cast list to you all! C: I have a crew and band list too, but those names will have to be revealed over time (so don't be upset if you don't see a certain name you love here). Never forget the crew! They are the glue that holds every production together! 
> 
> Thank you for reading, once again!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein.  
> No Exit belongs to Jean-Paul Sartre.  
> A Winter's Tale belongs to William Shakespeare.

"WE ARE _SO_ AWESOME!"

Ordinarily, a shout that loud and sudden would have caused serious accidents in any other given circumstance, but the population of Hetalia High was accustomed to Gillian Beilschmidt by now. She pumped her fist in the air triumphantly, one foot planted firmly on the lunch table.

"The Bad Friends Trio all get leads? This totally proves our awesome!" She crowed again.

Across from her, Francis continued picking at his salad nonchalantly.

"I told you, both of you were a given." He finally took a bite, looking every bit the sophisticated gourmet that he was. "Especially you, Toni." He prodded his friend with the butt end of the fork.

Antonio blinked at the sudden contact. He turned to stare vacantly at the other two.

"Huh?"

"What is up with you? Quit spacing out," Gillian complained. "Aren't you happy? You're the star!"

Antonio didn't answer. His eyes drifted from Gillian's expectant face, to his almost completely intact egg and potato sandwich, to Francis, then back to some point across the cafeteria.

Francis wiped his mouth before leaning over and squinting in the same direction. All he could see was Gillian's brother, Ludwig, eating his lunch alongside Feliciana. His bright-eyed cousin was halfway out of her seat, chattering excitedly across the table to one of her other friends, that Japanese girl. And beside her, sat Lovina. She did not look happy with the seating arrangements, as she was facing Ludwig. Her face was screwed up in concentration, betraying her belief that maybe if she glared at him long enough, he would spontaneously combust. It wasn't working.

Then, as if she could feel their eyes upon her, her head jerked away and turned to stare back at them. Antonio's expression automatically brightened, and he waved enthusiastically. Lovina scowled and placed her backpack on the table, effectively hiding herself from view.

Antonio didn't seem overly crushed by this silent rejection, and suddenly seemed to notice his meal. As he dug in with gusto, Francis sat back, folding his arms as he digested the scenario.

"So, that's it. What's up between you and Lovina?"

Antonio's speech was slightly hindered from his full mouth. "Huh? Oh! Nothing. I tried getting to know her on Monday but she wasn't very nice about it..."

"I say get used to it. She's never been nice to me."

"Wait, how long have you known her?"

"Um, let's see." Francis did some quick math. "Sixteen years."

" _Sixteen years?_ "

"Yeah, because I've been around for eighteen, and she's younger than I am."

"That means..." One could almost see the gears clicking into place as the truth dawned upon Antonio's face. "You're related!"

"Yep!"

"Why didn't you tell me this before? You could have introduced me!"

"I never knew you were interested."

"I didn't either."

"Then how would I have known?" Francis frowned, and in that moment you could see the family resemblance.

Gillian, having plopped back into her seat after the vain attempt for some attention, rolled her eyes. Reaching across the table and swiping Francis's fruit tart, she waved her hand between their faces.

"Hello? Have we stopped talking about how we're all really important main characters in the show?" She took a big bite. "I mean, it's not a far off subject! She's Maria!"

Francis shrugged airily. "Oh, well. She doesn't have a choice but to spend time with you, anyway. Star crossed lovers, after all."

Gillian coughed violently, almost choking on a strawberry. "Ugh, you're going to have to kiss her!"

At those words, a new expression rolled across Antonio's face, like wiping a slate clean. Francis sighed. "Really, Gill? How immature can you get?"

"But..." Antonio peered at the bright pink backpack that had slid down and was now drooping over the table. The top of Lovina's head could now be seen, bobbing up and down as she talked with the other people at her lunch table. "What if she won't kiss me?"

"No worries. Artie will make her do it. The guy's a directing diva. Remember last year?"

Francis snickered. "Now that was fun."

"Yeah! I still think that  _No Exit, Pursued By a Bear_ is an awesome idea," Gillian's eyes gleamed, recalling the prank. "Existentialism meets crazy furry animals, with a side helping of obscure Shakespeare jokes!" She paused. "Maybe actually going onstage in a bear costume was what really got him angry."

"You think? He already didn't like you before then."

"What are you talking about? Everybody loves me!"

* * *

The next afternoon, Arthur was waiting in the classroom he had booked, impatiently tapping his pen on the stack of scripts next to him. When he meant directly after class, he meant directly after class. Apparently, that definition didn't apply to anyone else.

The sounds of students gossiping and lockers slamming could be heard from beyond the open doorway. Before Arthur could shoot another death glare at the clock, a small stampede of boots and sneakers slapping the floor suddenly rumbled up, and a cluster of very different people walked in.

Vash Zwingli, with his chin-length hair and sharp eyes, was in the lead. He immediately took the first available chair, causing the girls behind him to double their steps and go around him. Elizabeta seemed like she was in a much better mood, chattering gaily with Clara, whose hair ribbon was fixed jauntily around her short blonde hair. Berwald and Tina were right on their heels. They also sat together, and Arthur felt like he could gag on the sickeningly sweetheart vibe emanating from them – except that Berwald's stern expression somehow stopped him from doing so.

A minute later, HK arrived with his brother, Yao. The younger sibling took the space next to Arthur, but the older headed towards one in the corner. But before he could even pull the chair out, two arms clad in blue flannel sleeves much too long for them, shot out from under his armpits and yanked him backwards into a tight embrace.

"YAO! You made it!"

The other occupants' heads all turned towards Yao, who grumbled in annoyance.

"Let go of me, Yong Soo."

"Okay!" The Korean boy released him, and Yao stumbled to the side, nearly knocking the desk over.

"Hey, let's sit together!"

"Let's  _not_."

"Aww..."

At that moment, the door of the classroom flew open and everybody blanched. Two tall shadows loomed inwards. Ivan approached Yao, not noticing the great chagrin etched upon his face.

"Oh, is this seat taken?" Ivan's scarf brushed Yong Soo's leg as he gestured to the chair next to Yao's. "It would be so nice to be near you."

The girl behind him peered out from the side to bore her eyes into what Yao felt was his soul. He nervously tried to recover.

"Ah...I think Yong Soo already picked it."

Ivan's face fell. "Oh, I see." Then he smiled again. "That's alright, if I sit across from you, it would be easier to talk anyway!"

Yao sighed and flopped into his seat as Ivan glided past him to the other side. He winced as Natalya inadvertently shoved his chair as she passed, the edge of the desk cutting into his chest. Yong Soo, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind her brusqueness and cheerfully plunked himself down into his seat. But before he could attack Yao with more jabber, he was distracted by the person who had appeared on his other side.

"Adam! What happened to your nose?"

The other boy flashed him a huge smile and ruefully ran his fingers through his already messy hair. "New pup at home. I was walking him the other day when he got distracted and ran off. Tripped and fell flat on my face trying to get him back."

"Really? I didn't know you had a dog! You should totally let me help you out! Koreans are excellent dog walkers!"

"Oh, so they are, now? Anyway, I think I still prefer snakes. Much better temperaments."

In the midst of all this, Lovina had finally arrived and was scanning the area for potential green-eyed weirdos. There was Arthur, of course, but that she couldn't do anything about. Deciding that the coast was clear, she turned to her right – and there he was. Antonio was delighted at his perfect timing.

"Hey, Lovina! Why don't we sit together?"

"No," she said bluntly.

Francis piped up from behind him. "Come on, Lovi, he's just being nice."

"Creepy is more like it."

Without warning, Gillian appeared out of nowhere and shoved Lovina into Antonio's arms. "Okay lovers, see ya later. Francis and me can give you some privacy."

Antonio happily dragged the unimpressed girl away. Gillian watched them in satisfaction before turning around to see Francis already next to Arthur, his gestures indicating more teasing. The empty seat next to him happened to be directly across from a Hungarian with long brown hair. The girls noticed each other at the same time, and automatically engaged in a fresh round of bickering.

Walking to the other side of the room wasn't enough to shake this Antonio guy off. He was being so – ugh –  _nice_  too, pulling out a chair for her, placing her backpack in the empty one next to her. And smiling, always smiling and looking so stupidly happy. Lovina was at a complete loss at what ever could be benefiting him by doing this. The problem was that he was  _not_  picking up any the signals indicating that she just wanted to be left alone.

"So, Lovi -"

"I never said you were allowed to call me that!"

"But Francis does."

"And he's a dead man."

"Have you done theatre before? I haven't, but I'm really excited. You?"

"Ecstatic."

"Yeah, me too."

Sarcasm had never been one of Antonio's strongest points.

By then, the place was filled with talking teenagers, so nobody noticed Maddie quietly making her way around the room. She slipped into the seat next to Gillian, who was still gloating over her "win" over Elizabeta, who was trying hard not to raise her voice any louder. Ignoring the squabble, Maddie hadn't been in the chair for ten seconds when a boy nonchalantly walked over and nearly flattened her as he tried to sit down.

"Hey!" she cried. Startled, the offender glanced down in mild surprise.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there," he said. Moving a seat over, he paused and turned around to examine her face. "Wait, who are you? Do you even go to this school?"

"Of course she does. That's Maddie Williams," a calm, low voice snaked out from the loud clamour around them. An olive skinned boy with tousled, curly hair walked up to them lazily. The first boy shot him a dark look.

"What the hell are you doing here, Heracles? Your name wasn't on the cast list."

"I know, Sadiq. I'm the assistant stage manager," Heracles replied. He pointed at Maddie. "And she's the main stage manager, which is why I know her." He then sat down beside Sadiq.

"Sit somewhere else, would ya?"

"I can't. Why else would I pick one next to you?"

Probably sensing that the increasing chaos had the potential to erupt into a full-scale war, Arthur finally stood up and called for order.

"Okay, everyone, let's get started. Thanks for being here. I really appreciate that you're willingly using your free time for it, and it's because of this that I need to get things straightened out.

"By coming here today, you're telling me that you're making a commitment to this production. You might enjoy singing, dancing, acting, or just getting attention, but you must be ready to work. Rehearsals aren't for hanging out with friends and goofing about. When we get closer to opening night, don't be surprised if we have to be here for long periods of time - you may have to come in on weekends as well. Be ready to sacrifice your free time!

"I also expect you all to show utmost respect to everybody else in the cast and crew, and nothing less. We do welcome ideas, but don't go around telling people off - just make sure to tell me, HK, Roderich, or Maddie. So if you can't deal with this, I suggest that you leave before the real rehearsals begin."

He paused to eye them all in a lordly manner, almost as a threat.

"That being said, I'm sure we'll all have a great time on this show. Today is the read through. I should hope that the title is self-explanatory, but for those who still don't know, we'll be reading through the entire script together. Everybody reads their own lines. Maddie will read the stage directions."

Some students craned their necks to peer at the girl. A few, confused, looked in the wrong direction and missed her completely.

"When we get to a part that involves music, we'll play it from the cast recording. Roderich couldn't be here today, so please no questions about that kind of stuff yet. And some time this weekend, we'll be having a movie night -"

All of a sudden, the door flew open again, interrupting Arthur in his lecture. Alfred ran inside, cowlick bouncing.

He waved at them cheerfully. "I didn't know where we were supposed to be, sorry I'm late!"

Arthur made an irritated noise in his throat. "Perhaps if you had taken the time to double check the email I sent out, you would have known."

Alfred shrugged. The only free seat was right next to Lovina, the same one where Antonio had deposited her backpack. Alfred confidently strolled up to it.

"Whose is this?" He lifted it with one hand and looked at her. "Anyone sitting here?"

She shook her head and he dumped it on the floor, happily settling into the chair. Lovina frowned, dragging her bag closer to her. Pulling away from Alfred consequently drew her closer to Antonio – who, naturally, didn't mind. But even a brush of his arm startled her enough to let out a surprised yelp, and Lovina's chair tipped over, triggering a terrific crash to the floor.

Everybody stared. Alfred had not even finished settling into his seat, his hand still on the back of his chair. Antonio sprang to her side.

"Are you hurt? Are you okay? Do you need -"

"I'm fine! Don't need anything!"

Lovina scrambled to her feet. Antonio righted the chair and looked like he was going to move closer until she glared at him. If only the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

"Er...everything alright?" Arthur asked.

"Yes..." Lovina ducked her head. She was determined not to look to her left

"...Okay," Arthur replied uncertainly. He glanced at the clock and continued. "Well, we'll pass the scripts out - don't lose them, or you'll be paying me for the extra copies! The beginning is mostly stage directions since the show begins with a dance number. Maddie will read them first, then I'll play the song. Mathias, you have the first lines."

A boy with wild, light hair grinned and nodded, pleased.

Packets of paper shuffled around the room. As soon as everybody received one, Maddie cleared her throat and began.

_ACT I, Scene one._

_5 PM. The street._

_The opening is musical: half-danced, half-mimed, with occasional phrases of dialogue. It is primarily a condensation of the growing rivalry between two teenage gangs, the Jets and the Sharks..._


	7. Chapter 7

On Friday afternoon, just shortly after 3 o' clock, Hetalia High was silent and still. Roderich thanked whatever high power there was for this as he pushed open the heavy door leading to the music room. Arthur had managed to secure it for their first rehearsal. Walking over to the baby grand in the corner, he shrugged off his book bag and lifted the lid, running his fingers across the solid wooden keys. The puny electric keyboard they had been using for auditions and callbacks felt flimsy in comparison.

A bell tinkled and he turned around. A plump, elderly man was walking towards him from the adjacent office, smiling.

"Hello there, Roderich!"

"Hi, Mr. Weiss," he replied. "Thanks for letting us use your room."

"Not at all, son. I'm looking forward to the show this April.  _West Side Story_ is a classic."

"For sure. But..." Roderich pulled a folder heavy with sheet music from his bag. "Let's just say there's a reason for scheduling a music rehearsal first."

The music teacher chuckled as he examined the score. "Yes, Lenny Bernstein did go all out on this one. Let me know when you're auditioning the band, alright? I can recommend a few people."

"That would be great. Thanks."

"No problem. Have a good rehearsal! I'll be in my office if you need any help."

Mr. Weiss returned to the small room and Roderich sat down at the piano. Selecting one of the songs, he scrutinised it carefully before picking the notes out. He hadn't gotten past the first few bars before his sight was suddenly obstructed by two hands.

"Guess who!"

"Hey, Elizabeta," he replied, smiling.

She returned his greeting with a playful kiss and rested her cheek against his head. For all her ferocity, her irritation at him had quickly abated, especially since it really hadn't been his fault. And when it came down to it, she loved to hear him play. Even when they were young, Elizabeta had been his biggest and most loyal fan.

They waited for the rest of the cast to arrive. Roderich continued to play even as the bell rang and people began to trickle inside, coming in groups of two or three. The risers gradually filled up until everybody who was supposed to attend were seated, chatting to one another or listening to the music. Just as Alfred Jones waltzed in, barely making it past the scheduled time of 3:20, Roderich finished the song and nodded to Elizabeta to join them.

"Hi, everyone. Welcome to the first music rehearsal for  _West Side Story_. I think you all know me..." He waved his hand awkwardly. "Roderich. The music director. That means I help you with learning the songs, and I'll be conducting the band during the show too."

Gillian and Francis bent their heads together in a corner, then lifted them to snicker at him. Roderich rolled his eyes. He had no time for their shenanigans today.

"This is a pretty intense score so let's dive in headfirst. Today, we're going to learn the 'Tonight Quintet.' It's arguably the most difficult piece in the entire show, but when done correctly it sounds amazing. How many of you can read music?"

Only a little over half of the students assembled raised their hands. Roderich sighed. It was as expected.

"Okay, well, it's fairly simple. When the notes on the staff go up, you sing higher. When they go down, you sing lower. Sit next to somebody who can read music. Listening to me and the CD will help too."

He picked up the stack of sheet music and started to pass them around. Gillian called out from her place in the back row. "'Scuse me, Roddybutts! I has a question!"

Years of practice had taught him to ignore her bait. "Please raise your hand if you wish to say something."

"Yes, Mr. Edelstein." She proceeded to wave her left arm wildly in the air, nearly smacking Adam across the face."Do I get a solo in this?"

"You do, in fact."

"AWESOME!"

Elizabeta was flipping through the pages of her packet. "Wait, all the other girls don't seem to be in this song."

"Arthur and I decided to have the girls sing along with their respective gangs during the counterpoint at the end," Roderich explained. "You'll see. Well, if we actually get to that part."

Clara looked disgruntled. "If? Then is there any point for being here?"

"Well, with some luck we'll have practiced four songs by the end of this session. That's why we have the music room until 6. I really don't want to stay until then, but we will if we have to." An idea dawned upon him. "Maybe we can do sectionals."

He turned to Lovina, who was sitting as inconspicuously as she could at the end of a row. "Yeah. You and Antonio can rehearse a song while I go through one of the bigger gang numbers later. How's that?"

She stared at him in astonishment. "What?"

"Great!" chirped a voice from the back. Antonio leaned against the wall nonchalantly, ever cheerful and ever helpful. Lovina narrowed her eyes at him.

All of the other students were beginning to lose focus now that they had their music, breaking out into conversation as they discovered which songs they would be performing. Roderich knocked on the piano to get their attention.

"Warm ups," he commanded.

After some scales, drills, and breathing exercises, Roderich warned them not to sit down just yet.

"I want people to stand in their different groups. Don't worry about vocal range because each part is in unison anyway. Jets on my right, Sharks on my left. Gill, Antonio, Lovina, you guys can be...in the middle. Just wait for a while. Oh, the other girls wait too."

He placed Lovina between Gillian and Antonio. It was a most unsatisfactory position for her. Thankfully, Roderich demanded silence from all other parties as he taught the boys the melody, otherwise Antonio would have gabbed one ear off, and Gillian would have caused great pain to the other one too.

"Okay. I hope everyone else was listening, because that's basically it. All I want is to run through this song so you can get the feel of it. As I said, it's hard, which is why we're working on it first. Practice at home. Gillian, let's hear you sight read."

"Finally!"

It took Roderich over half an hour to teach the bare bones of the song, patiently going over ever note and lyric, straightening out confusions over rhythm and pitch. The counterpoint at the end was more hectic than epic at the moment, but that would come in time. After all, they had just learned it.

"Good work, everybody. Let's try the whole thing just once. If you mess up, don't worry about it. You've only known it for forty-five minutes anyway. And I'll play along with you." He nodded towards the Jets. "Ready? Listen for the intro."

_The Jets are gonna have their day, tonight._

_The Sharks are gonna have their way, tonight._

_The Puerto Ricans grumble, fair fight.  
But if they start a rumble, we'll rumble them right..._

The boys' part went on for over a minute, stumbling and bumbling, but still managing to limp through with Roderich's help. Gillian's turn was right after theirs.

_Anita's gonna get her kicks, tonight._   
_We'll have our private little mix, tonight._   
_He'll walk in hot and tired, so what?_   
_Don't matter if he's tired, as long as he's hot..._   
_Tonight!_

She spared no expense in getting into character – flirty, fluttering eyelashes, planting her foot onto the riser above her and tracing her thigh in a provocative manner. Roderich couldn't help but to snort derisively. If anyone could be provocative in cargo pants, it would not be Gillian Beilschmidt.

He was happy to hear Antonio come in with his well-tuned tenor. The senior was standing casually in the centre of the room, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his folded sheet music.

_Tonight, tonight, won't be just any night._   
_Tonight there will be no morning star!_   
_Tonight, tonight, I'll see my love tonight,_   
_And for us, stars will stop where they are._   
_Today, the minutes seemed like hours, the hours go so slowly, and still the sky is light..._   
_Oh moon, grow bright, and make this endless day endless night!_

Antonio was easily one of the best singers in the room. There had been no slip ups or wrong notes, only smooth melody filling the entire room. He probably had been listening to the soundtrack at home. And the way he made it sound so effortless and sincere had drawn giggles from girls across the room, not to mention a reluctant sneaking glance from the one standing next to him.

Alfred couldn't sound any more different, even if he also seemed perfectly in character.

_We're counting on you to be there, tonight._   
_When Diesel wins it fair and square, tonight._   
_That Puerto Rican punk'll go down, and when he's hollered uncle, we'll tear up the town!_

On the last note, Roderich looked up and nodded at Lovina. She joined in, her gently rising soprano now in the background.

_Tonight, tonight, won't be just any night._   
_Tonight there will be no morning star!_   
_Tonight, tonight, I'll see my love tonight,_   
_And for us, stars will stop where they are..._

By this point, all the other parts were purposefully clashing upon one another – Sharks and Jets droning on like a stubborn chant, while Gillian belted as loud as she could and Antonio obliviously sang along. Roderich spared a peek into the risers to see Lovina's face twisted into a grimace. He could only see her mouth moving, her voice completely drowned out by the cacophony.

_Today, the minutes seemed like hours, the hours go so slowly, and still the sky is light...  
Oh moon, grow bright, and make this endless day endless night!_

_We're gonna rock it, tonight!_

There was a brief moment of respite when they all took in a deep breath for the big finish.

_TOOOONIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!_

The silence that filled the room right afterwards surprised them all.

"Not bad for our first try," Roderich said a bit unconvincingly.

"Not bad? That was a train wreck!"

"Fine, be a pessimist if you want. It's only the first rehearsal. Just go home and practice." He stood up and began to sort the stack of sheet music on the end of the piano. "Let's move on and do some sectionals. We already spent an hour on this. Jet girls and Shark boys, you can leave now."

A number of people left - some rather speedily - to receive the weekend with open arms. Roderich handed Antonio two new songs.

"I'm going to stay here and work with the others on the gang songs. The song's pretty easy, no harmonies until the end bit. You two have considerable musical prowess, so let's see what you can accomplish in...well, it's a little past 4:30 now, so say...forty minutes? Use the practice room down the hall, then come back at 5:15 or so and we'll have you guys perform it."

He turned back to the rest of the group without waiting for an answer. Lovina eyed Antonio suspiciously as he powered up his blinding smile up another notch.

"Hey, don't look so worried! I know this song. We'll do great. You're a really good singer."

"Don't butter me up, I'm not a potato," she snapped, snatching up one of the packets.

He laughed hysterically, as if she had told the greatest joke he had ever heard, and held the door open. Lovina marched through it, feeling a bit embarrassed, but also, for some reason, pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recording I use when writing this story is the 1957 Original Broadway Cast Recording with Larry Kert and Carol Lawrence as the leads, just fyi! Thanks for readin'.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Forgot all about updating this because of my busy busy offline life (full time work, part time school, preparing for the upcoming NaNoWriMo as a Municipal Liason!). Please accept my apologies and this chapter!
> 
> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein.

When she arrived to the practice room, Lovina threw the door open and stalked inside, just to discover after six strides that it was incredibly small. She found her nose inches away from the plastered wall as Antonio closed the door. Turning around, she realised the only pieces of furniture were an upright piano, its bench, and a spindly music stand. Nigh-claustrophobic quarters with a boy that made her feel nauseous – things were shaping up rather nicely, weren’t they?

They stood facing each other awkwardly, hearing very muffled singing from beyond the walls. Antonio finally took the initiative, holding up his music.

"Guess we should look at this?"

Lovina grunted, which he took as an affirmative. He lifted the cover of the keyboard and bent over to pull out the bench beneath it. Lovina watched him idly until she suddenly wished she hadn’t: Antonio’s backside in those jeans was an image she wasn’t likely to forget in a _long_ time. Horrified, she squeezed her eyes shut, begging herself to just focus, damnit!

And that’s how Antonio found her, reddening face puffed up in concentration and flapping the air about her frantically. It was so comical, he just had to laugh.

“What are you doing?”

Lovina’s eyes snapped open. “What? Oh, shut up!”

She strode over and yanked the music out of his hands. Antonio didn’t even try to stop her, doubling over and holding onto the piano to keep his balance. Lovina plopped down on the bench and spread out the music before looking over at him disdainfully.

“Are you going to waste all of the time?” she demanded. He obediently sat down next to her, still choking on a few errant chuckles.

“That was one of the most adorable things I have ever seen!”

She fixed him with her iciest glare, but he barely even noticed. He tilted his head to the side, grinning lazily again, and Lovina noticed his hair. It was just the right length, so that the curls lightly brushed against his collar. Once more, she mentally pinched herself. Why was everything so distracting today? She wished there had been another chair in the room.

Antonio was finally examining the sheet music. “Ahh…it’s been a while since I’ve played the piano.”

"Then stop wasting time and let me do it!" She shoved him even though he hadn’t done anything. His shirt was soft and thin, and her shove caused the sleeve to ride up his bicep which was, wow, really well defined, there...

Antonio was slightly alarmed when Lovina gritted her teeth and began pounding out the notes.

“Hey, what’s wro-”

“FOCUS,” she snarled. To whom she was actually speaking to is anybody’s guess.

* * *

When Alfred had told his coach that he had decided to forgo basketball for one year, there was a brief, terrifying moment when he thought the man was going to puff up to twice his size and explode into a thousand small pieces. Instead, Coach Breyer asked why.

“They’re doing a musical thing,” Alfred explained.

Coach Breyer was quick to point out that Alfred didn’t actually know whether he was even going to get a part.

“Yeah, but I really wanna do it. I can practice with everyone and stuff up until Christmas, but after that they’ve got the rehearsals and auditions and stuff.”

Now here in the music room, he could hardly believe his luck. To be completely honest, Alfred had been ready to accept the fact that Arthur was going to try to keep him from being involved at any cost. Instead, he had been given one of the best characters. Riff. The _leader_ of the Jets. He even had his own song (more like half of one) about…well, being a Jet. There was also an exciting scene later in which Riff would die a very dramatic, very _heroic_ death defending the name of his gang and best friend. Alfred, to put it mildly, was thrilled.

Roderich was also feeling a better than before since Alfred learned quickly. Then again, ‘The Jet Song’ was incredibly easy, requiring no harmonies at all. The main thing was getting a few of the other Jets to project. Some of them seemed a little shy of making themselves heard. Roderich had almost no interest in acting, but he’d pull the analytical stuff out of his pocket if it was going to help.

"Raivis, consider your character. What reasons would Baby John have, joining the Jets?"

"Um."

"Think about the lyrics. Being a Jet means confidence, security, always being surrounded by family. Especially in this song, he should be really proud of being a Jet. So go ahead and sing out."

"Oh...okay."

"Yeah, the Jets are the greatest!" Alfred jumped right into character again. It was difficult to tell whether he was doing it purposefully or not. “Imagine if you were a Jet. That means you could fly. Can sharks fly? No!”

"But they have hundreds of teeth and are one of the ocean's most feared creatures," Berwald pointed out.

"Well, jets have bombs!"

“Anyway!” Roderich was not going to let this degenerate into a comparison of literal jets and sharks. "Anyway, this note can go for everyone else. Go ahead and sing out. Don't worry about sounding too nasal or as if you're shouting, because that's basically the kind of character you all are - loud, confident and full of life. I want to hear some punch behind the words."

Most of the boys didn’t really need this note, only the few that were holding back. Suddenly, Gillian was at his shoulder.

“Hey Rodbutt, how long do I have to listen to this? When do I sing my solo?”

Alfred stood up a little taller. “Excuse me, but right now, it’s _my_ solo.”

"Whatever man, I have way more of them than you! Three! Count ‘em and weep.”

"Uh, guys?" Raivis piped up timidly. "Aren't Tony and Maria the lead roles?"

His comment was ignored and drowned out as everybody began to talk all at once.

"But as a whole, though. The Jets have way more stage time than the Sharks!"

"Okay, seriously you guys. Let’s not make this a debate on the first day. Gillian, shouldn’t you be doing homework or something?"

Finally, Vash got up on his chair.

"SHUT UP!”

Everybody froze. Vash didn’t get angry too often, but when he did, it was best to be clear of his way. He surveyed them with a steely glare, then gave Roderich a curt nod before sitting down again.

"Erm…thank you." He turned to Gillian, who was grinning impishly. "Back to your seat, Gill."

She turned on her heel and clambered up the risers, where the rest of the Shark girls were patiently waiting for their turn. For all the chaos caused, she still seemed rather pleased with herself. "By the way, Al, yelling louder doesn't make your argument any more valid."

He squawked in protest. "Look who's talking!"

"This is my normal volume!"

"We know," the room chorused in unison.

Roderich rubbed his temple. He was going to chew Arthur out for abandoning him with a squabbly, easily distracted lot in the first rehearsal alone. “Could we just…sing the song one more time? Then the boys can go.”

_When you're a Jet, you're a Jet all the way,_   
_From your first cigarette to your last dyin' day!_   
_When you're a Jet, if the spit hits the fan,_   
_You got brothers around, you're a family man!_

_You're never alone. You're never disconnected._   
_You're home with your own. When company's expected,_   
_You're well protected!_

_Then you are set with a capital J_   
_Which you'll never forget 'til they cart you away!_   
_When you're a Jet, you stay a  Jeeeeeeeeet!_

* * *

The moment the second hand on Antonio’s watch ticked precisely at 5:15 PM, Lovina had declared that their little one-on-one practice was over. She had even stopped mid-word and nearly shut the keyboard cover down on Antonio’s fingers. It had been a good sectional, in his opinion. Over forty minutes of solid note plunking, and it was such a short song that he had practically memorised it too. One of the most pleasant things was that Lovina wasn’t _just_ pretty .She actually did have a very nice voice. The incredible sweetness of her singing contrasted with her furrowed brow, and Antonio could barely keep from watching and smiling at the picture.

But for his own sake, he did the best that he could.

Over forty minutes in a confined space also taught him a lot of details. Lovina’s hair went just past her shoulders and ended in loose waves, but there was a small tight curl that stuck out just above her forehead. It looked like she had tried to hide it by wearing a headband, but still it bounced around every time she moved. Right now, it was in a perpetual state of wobble as they walked down the hallway together.

As they approached the main music room, they could hear Roderich yelling something over the sounds of chairs scuffing the floor and the chatter of happy teenagers. The commotion grew louder as Lovina reached for the door handle.

“…should have sent an email with the directions by now, if not, then tonight!”

Antonio pulled Lovina back as a small stampede of teenage boys raced past them. It had been instinctual, but she did not seem to appreciate the gesture.

“Don’t pull on my sweater, you’ll stretch the material with those freakishly ripped arms of yours.”

Wait, ripped? Antonio couldn’t tell if this was a compliment or not. He hoped it was a compliment.

“Sorry.”

“Whatever.” She turned away and folded her arms.

Roderich finally noticed them.

"Oh, great. Sorry girls, but would it be alright if I let these two go first? It won’t take too long, so we won’t waste that much time."

"Won’t waste time - what do you think we've been doing for the past hour?" Gillian demanded.

"Uh, doing your homework?"

"I didn’t have any.”

“Well, that’s not my fault.”

“Ugh, I just want to go home.”

The last line had been muttered very quietly. Antonio looked at Lovina’s unhappy face and spoke up on her behalf. “Uh, Roderich? Can we hurry up a bit?”

“Of course, if a certain somebody would just keep quiet.” Roderich frowned sniffily at Gillian again before turning back to the piano. Gillian smirked at her conquest and gave Antonio a thumbs up before settling on the bottom riser to listen.

_Make of our hands, one hand._   
_Make of our hearts, one heart._   
_Make of our vows, one last vow._   
_Only death will part us now._

_Make of our lives, one life._   
_Day after day, one life._   
  
_Now it begins, now we start:_   
_One hand, one heart._   
_Even death won't part us now._

_Make of our lives, one life._   
_Day after day, one life._   
_Now it begins, now we start:_   
_One hand, one heart._

The two parts split into harmony in the last line.

_Even death won't part us now._

Before the last note had even ended, there was raucous applause from the Shark girls. Gillian had a particularly big smile plastered over her face.

“At least we have you two dorks! Now I won’t have to carry this entire musical all by my awesome self.”

Lovina ignored her. "We're done now, right?" Roderich nodded. "Good!"

As she bolted from the room, he called out, "Don't forget movie night at Francis’s place!"

She was already gone, the door creaking on its hinges. Antonio shrugged and waved back at them all as he started after her.

"Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she knows!" He ran out into the hallway, where they could hear him calling. "Lovi, Lovina! Need a ride for tomorrow?"

* * *

Roderich was actually making longing looks at the clock by now. It was hard to believe that he hadn't left this room for nearly three hours, but his ringing eardrums was ample proof. He also found it hard to believe that he was still alive after the last three quarters of an hour, since it was basically Elizabeta and Gillian arguing. The entire time.

In _song_ , nonetheless.

"Okay, everyone." He rapped his knuckles on the side of the piano to get their attention again. "Once more from the top, and then we can all go. Please?"

Gillian beamed with pride. "Yeah! I love this song!"

He turned to Elizabeta. She grimaced at him, indicating that yes, she was also up to _there_ with the antics of their “childhood friend”. But the thing was that Roderich couldn’t actually do anything about it. If something grabbed Gillian’s interest, she actually became quite devoted to it.

He sighed and started clapping out the opening rhythm. Elizabeta stood at the piano and started the song.

_Puerto Rico, you lovely island, island of tropical breezes!  
Always the pinapples growing, always the coffee blossoms blowing!_

Gillian almost came in too early, cutting Elizabeta off with her throaty belt.

_Puerto Rico, you ugly island, island of tropic diseases!  
Always the hurricanes blowing, always the population growing!_

"Si, Anita!" cried out all the other girls.

_And the money owing!_   
_And the babies crying._   
_And the bullets flying..._

Gillian folded her arms in triumph, glancing back at both Elizabeta and Roderich’s exasperated faces. Her acting was actually great for a first run, but it wasn’t due to any special talent. Gillian was a garrulous attention seeker _all_ the time.

_I like the island Manhattan!_

"I know you do!" Clara yelled.

_Smoke on your pipe, and put THAT in!_

_I like to be in America._   
_OK by me in America!_   
_Everything's free in America,_

_For a small fee in America_ , Elizabeta shot back.

The two of them continued their challenge of one-ups as the song progressed. Roderich’s fingers felt tired, and the bickering was driving him crazy. The thing that was most unbelievable is that Elizabeta and Gillian had found a way to make their fighting legitimate. He found it absolutely ridiculous. Everyone knew Gillian and Elizabeta didn't need to practice having a fight. Silently, he cursed and congratulated Arthur for casting the two roles so perfectly. At least the song was coming to an end.

Elizabeta tossed her long, wavy brown tresses back over her shoulder.

_When I will go back to San Juan..._

 Gillian imitated the move with her own pale, straight hair.

_When will you shut up and get gone?_

_Everyone there will give big cheer!_

_Everyone there will have moved here._

The rest of the girls laughed. Gillian preened whilst Elizabeta leaned on the piano, eyeing her with dislike. Roderich raised his arm for quiet before one of them could start up again. The only good thing about this entire practice was the confirmation that the scene would always be performed flawlessly, character-wise.

"Okay, that's fine. Great job, everyone. See you tomorrow for movie night."

"Got it, Butt-erich!" Gillian sang, bounding out the door. The rest of the girls trickled out slowly, save for Elizabeta. She was still leaning against the piano.

She tilted her head back and squinted at the clock. “Six PM exactly!”

Roderich stood up wearily and started packing up the piano. Elizabeta helped him straighten up the chairs and put away the stray papers of sheet music lying around – it was only the first rehearsal, but people were already leaving things behind. Then finally, after giving Mr. Weiss a half-hearted wave through his office window, they walked out of the music room.

“Tomorrow, I am going to sleep until noon,” Roderich told Elizabeta.

She nodded sympathetically. “You deserve it.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein.  
> The West Side Story film belongs to Mirisch Pictures and United Artists.

Francis and Aunt Monica lived in an apartment building downtown, which meant taking the subway. Lovina descended down the steps cautiously, trying to avoid dirty puddles of slush. The day before, Antonio had offered to drive her there, but she’d rather brave the underground than to give in to such temptation.

...Torture. Not temptation. Torture.

The trip was short, but the seconds dragged on. Ads on the platform were covered in graffiti, the train creaked with a shaky uncertainty, and she was completely cut off from the world thanks to no phone reception. Lovina swayed along with the train and nervously counted off each station under the fluorescent lights.

When the doors pinged open at the right stop, she practically ran through the turnstiles and up the stairs. Once back on ground level, finding her way to the right building was easy – it wasn’t her first time going there after all. Lovina’s boots made a small thumping noise as well as a few damp spots on the lobby carpet as she approached the elevator. The stoic security guard at the front desk gave her a scrutinising stare, one that was countered by an equally fierce frown. She was jabbing irritably at the close button when an all-too familiar voice called out from the other side.

"Hey! Wait up! Awesome people comin' through!"

She automatically pressed it harder. As the doors slid towards one another, a black and silver figure suddenly materialized just on the other side. Lovina jumped into a corner, yelping when Gillian wedged a salt-stained combat boot tip in the narrow gap, then shoved the metal doors aside.

"Heeey! 'Tonio, it's your girl!"

Sure enough, Antonio finally ambled around the corner, swinging his car keys from one hand.

“Oh! Hi, Lovina!”

Lovina would not grace them with a greeting. "I am not his girl."

"Fine, in that case - hey Lovi," Gillian leaned against a mirrored corner, her long hair fluffing up over her shoulder. “I brought you your man.”

Antonio coughed awkwardly and Lovina glowered as the elevator ascended. "Don't call me Lovi."

"But isn’t that what Feli calls you all the time?"

"How the hell do you know Feli?"

"Uh, 'cause she follows Ludwig home all the time?"

"...She _what_?!"

Feliciana was saved by the elevator arriving at the 18th floor. Gillian seized both their wrists and began barrelling down the hall. Her voice echoed loudly in the hushed corridor.

“You should have come with us! I mean, we always come to Francis’s place so we totally know how to get here, but we missed that one exit because we were listenin’ to My Chemical Romance and being all like nostalgic about middle school, but hey, we’re not _that_ late, are w-”

“Let go of me,” Lovina demanded, digging in her heels into the carpet. It was no use. Gillian just pulled harder and talked louder. Lovina looked at Antonio, who simply shrugged.

They halted in front of the very last door in the hallway, Suite 1832. GIllian hurled herself against it and banged her fist loudly on the wood.

"Little pigs, little pigs, let the awesome me come in!" She hollered. "Or I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow this door do-"

She nearly fell flat on her face as the door was abruptly yanked open. Arthur stood imperiously over her, eyes full of disapproval.

"Damn it, Beilschmidt. Do you _want_ Ms. Roma to throw us out or something?"

"She’d never throw me out," Gillian declared. “I’m way too awesome for that. But,” She pointed at Arthur’s forehead. “A caterpillar infestation might make her think twice about you, Kirkland.”

Lovina and Antonio snickered. Arthur sighed melodramatically and stepped back to let them in.

The two-bedroom apartment wasn’t very large, but it was furnished most artfully. Francis had inherited his sense of style not just from his father, but his mother as well. At the moment, the modern-looking couch and armchair set were filled with people, some of them spilling out onto chairs or even sitting on the floor, chatting away and stuffing their faces with the delicious snacks Chef Roma had created for them all. After all, the only reason why Arthur had agreed to having the movie night at Francis's was for the food.

Gillian's voice overpowered them all as she wriggled out of her coat, tossing it carelessly on the large pile of them near the door.

"So how'd ya come, Artie? Doesn’t it take you like, two hours to get here? Toni and me drove. But we don’t always take the car and we were totally belting MCR when Toni missed the exit, so we circled around like seven times! We didn’t really pay attention to the street names, just lookin’ for that science museum, you know, the one with the really awesome dino skeletons you can see right through the wall? Anyway, it was looking really hopeless until all of a sudden we randomly found ourselves at Alexander and Olivier, and finally we knew where to go, but then we had to look for a parking spot and the prices here are so friggin’ hi...Ms. Roma! Hey!"

Francis's mother appeared with a heavily laden tray, smiling at the newcomers.

"Good to _hear_ you again, Gillian. Hello, Antonio." She set the tray down to give Lovina a big hug. "And Lovi! You can't imagine how surprised I was when Francis told me you were coming!"

Lovina squirmed and blushed. "Hi, Auntie Monica."

"See, she calls you Lovi too!"

"Gill, please shut up." Sensing a family reunion, Arthur grabbed Gillian’s shoulders and marched her towards the others.

Aunt Monica released her niece. "So you and Antonio are the big stars, huh? Anyway, since I knew both of you would be here, I decided some bruschetta should be on the menu." She held out the tray towards them. “Your favourite, Lovi!"

"Your favourite?" Antonio reached for one. "Hey, mine too! I love tomatoes."

"Everyone loves tomatoes," Lovina scoffed as Francis emerged from his room, his hand cupped over the speaking end of a phone.

He handed the phone to his mother. "Papa wants to talk to you about spring break."

The sweet expression on Aunt Monica's face quickly melted into an exasperated look. "I don’t care if he’s willing to pay for all of it, but would it really ruin his schedule to come _here_ for once?" She snatched it up and walked back into the kitchen, no longer in the mood for small talk.

Francis, seemingly unfazed, picked up the abandoned tray and nodded towards the crowded couches. "Shall we?"

Not everyone in the cast was present, but it was still a very large ensemble. All available seats were already taken, some people even resorting to sitting on the floor. Lovina settled for a spot near the coffee table, keeping a close eye on the bruschetta tray. Antonio plopped onto the carpet next to her. Leaning against the couch behind them, he so-very-innocently “stretched” – putting his arm behind her, which she promptly batted away.

"Don't even think about it.”

"But now that you've said it, how can he not think about it?" Yong Soo questioned from above them, leaning over to stare upside-down into her face.

"Go away."

"But to where?" he asked airily. He flopped back into the couch, causing the person beside him to spill some of his drink.

"Watch it!” Yao gingerly began to sponge his pants.

Arthur stood in front of the television set, waving his arms to get everybody's attention.

"Alright, cast. Today we're watching the _West Side Story_ film, a cinematic masterpiece by Robert Wise and the incredible Jerome Robbins," he said. "Now, there are obviously going to be differences from what you're about to see and what we'll actually rehearse, but I believe it is vitally important to take in the superb acting and choreography shown here..."

He was rudely interrupted by a piece of popcorn bouncing off the side of his head.

"Geddonwivit!" Gillian yelled through a mouthful of food.

Arthur bestowed one of his best glares upon her before continuing. "As I was saying, there are going to be some major differences between our production and this one, and I'll point them out as the film progresses." He knelt down to the DVD player and slipped the disc in.

"Have you seen this before?" Antonio asked Lovina. She shook her head. "Oh, don’t worry, Arthur’s right. It’s a classic!"

"Yeah, it takes a real man to kick another's ass while doing ballet," Gillian butted in cheerfully from the other side of the coffee table. Arthur shushed her.

Alfred squinted at the screen from one of the armchairs. "Hey, Francis. Is your TV okay or what? The screen’s gone all yellow."

"No, no, that’s how the movie starts. You'll see what those lines are in a second."

"The music’s familiar..."

“It’s the Tonight Quintet. Right?”

"Yes, yes it is." Roderich looked very pleased that someone was paying attention. Antonio was humming along quietly, a small smile playing on his face. Lovina stuffed her mouth with another piece of bruschetta and ignored him the best she could.

"Guys, they still look like lines to me. Except that it's all orange."

"Would you just shut up and keep watching!"

"Now it's blue!"

Maddie whapped him lightly on the shoulder. “None of us are colourblind, Captain Obvious.”

"Aha! There we go... _West Side Story_!"

"Good job, you know how to read. We'll give you a medal."

"Ohhhh, it's New York City!"

"The prologue was the only scene in this entire movie shot on location," Arthur announced. "Everything else was done on soundstages in California."

"Are you going to tell us every tiny bit of trivia throughout the whole thing?"

"Yes, he will."

"Well, this is gonna suck."

Arthur retaliated by upturning his entire bowl of popcorn on Gillian's head. She just laughed and started eating them off the floor.

"Really, Gill?"

Alfred sat up eagerly when people finally appeared on the screen. “Hey, who’s that? Is that me?”

"Yes, Russ Tamblyn played Riff. He’s actually in several other movie musicals, including _Seven Bri_ -”

“We don’t care, Arthur.”

Francis, still standing, leaned over the back of the couch. “Mm, I always thought Bernardo was the best looking one. So good thing that he’s me."

"Oooh, but the guy playing Tony was also pretty dreamy," Elizabeta said.

Antonio laughed. "Thanks, I guess?"

Lovina rolled her eyes.

"See, I told you! Manly, dancey ass-kicking!" Gillian scooped more popcorn off the floor. “But we’ll still some normal fighting, right?”

"Yup. I'm the fight director," HK answered.

"Really? Awesome!"

“So there’s going to be real fighting onstage?” Elizabeta asked.

"Stage combat isn't real fighting," Arthur began. "The entire occupation of a fight director entails-"

Alfred sighed loudly. "Aw man, could _you_ just shut up and watch the movie?"

Arthur slid down in his chair and pouted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So terribly sorry for being totally MIA for the past 4 months! Happy 2014, though.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim.  
> All Lady Gaga songs belong to her own fabulous self.

Twenty or so teenagers were milling around the auditorium, chattering carelessly to one another. Francis stood along the sidelines, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and hands on hips. An expression of reluctant concern played upon his face.

"Just a reminder, but you volunteered for this position."

At this, Francis turned and frowned. Arthur, arms folded innocently on the production team table, looked up at him smugly. "Having second thoughts?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"No, you don't." There was barely suppressed glee in the tone of voice. For a control freak, Arthur seemed to be more than happy to let go of the reins this one time. Then again, this was a choreography rehearsal.

Francis grimaced. "Fine, then let's get started."

Arthur stood up and clapped his hands together. "Right! Everyone, come listen to Francis. Today's all about choreography, so he's in charge."

"Wooooow, big move for you, Kirkland!"

"Shut it, Beilschmidt."

Francis took in a deep breath, then slapped on his most charming smile. Several girls giggled back, which was always the best response. "Hey there! Welcome to the first dance rehearsal, which will be a lot more fun without Arthur bossing you around." More giggles, good. He ignored the scowl burning into his back and continued. "If you feel like you aren't coordinated enough to dance well, don't worry about it. You wouldn't make it to this stage if you weren't! It's my job to make the choreo easy for you, and everyone here will practically be pros by the end of our run."

Okay, so he was spouting off a few white lies, but it was all for the sake of boosting confidence and assuaging feelings. A few cast members were clearly not buying it. Francis kept up his cheery attitude as best as he could, herding the mainly blank-faced group into a scraggly circle.

"First off, we're going to do some stretches and warm-ups."

He glanced behind him, where Arthur had his nose buried in other notes, completely ignoring him. Luckily, Maddie looked up from her laptop. "You need music?"

"Yeah, anything upbeat."

In a few seconds, the place was filled with people doing jumping jacks to 'Poker Face.' Anything to get heart rates going. Francis made a point to keep the stretches short and useful, even going for some drills. He’d assumed that the most basic things, such as turns and kicks, would surely be doable for most people, but some couldn't even remember to point their toes. After catching Raivis spinning off-centre for the umpteenth time, he decided enough was enough.

"Oooookay! We're good," he declared, shoving the kid back into the pack. "Gilly, over here."

A certain someone was still prancing around on her own in a corner, her high kicks resembling karate attacks instead of graceful ballet moves.

_Eh-ey, eh-ey, I wish he never looked at me that way..._

Antonio reached over and tugged on her sleeve. "Gilly!"

"Gill?"

"Gillian, get with the program!" Arthur shouted.

She stopped mid-kick and flashed a completely unapologetic grin at Francis. "Great, great. So, today we're going to learn the 'Dance at the Gym' sequence. It's what we used for the auditions, if anyone remembers. Don't worry if you don't remember it anymore; we're going to relearn it - and with new partners. So, I'm going to call out names. After you find your partner, you go to where I put you and don't move!"

He fished a piece of paper out of his pocket and began to rattle off pairings. The crowd slowly shifted and split up with the Sharks on one side and the Jets on the other. Alfred found himself at the front of his group, partnered with Natalya.

He confidently held out his hand to her. "Hi! I guess we're together, huh?"

She stared at his proffered hand for a few moments before announcing coldly, "I want to dance with Ivan."

"Well, um. He isn't in this song." Alfred was taken aback at the rejection. "He's not even here right now."

Natalya glared at him for a few more seconds before turning away. Alfred found himself at a complete loss for words. Most people seemed easy to befriend and liked his outgoing and cheerful attitude...well, there was Arthur, but nothing _ever_ pleased that guy. He tried to recall everything he knew about Natalya. She was in his year, but mainly kept to herself and spoke very little. At some point, he'd picked up some news that she was apparently a really good gymnast, even though she wasn't on the school's team. She was just that good, to do it with a more professional trainer. Alfred eyed the stoic girl, finally noticing how she was dressed. With the dark ribbon in her hair, along with the elegant dress and fancy tights, she looked more like a model than an athlete. As an athlete himself, he found that fascinating. He remembered the hoodie and basketball shorts he'd thrown on after Phys Ed and suddenly felt self-conscious.

"Oh Alfred, please stop checking your partner out and pay attention," Francis's voice sang out.

Snickers echoed throughout the group. Alfred shrugged and grinned, basking in the limelight. Natalya didn't seem to care or even notice.

Francis was having second thoughts about his plans for "Dance at the Gym". This number was the biggest, most unruly dance song in the entire show, and he didn't want to pressure people into perfection. He had figured that swing dancing would make things fun. He thought that teaching the basic steps and a few snazzy moves would trigger self-motivation. He had assumed giving them some choice in what moves they wanted to do would make things easier, but... some people had two left feet, or something!

"No, it's like..." He sighed and reached over to grab Tina's ankle in order to rearrange her footwork. A shadow fell over him, and he peered up into Berwald's suspicious eyes. "Um...Gill, let's show them."

His own partner skipped over cheerily, not having minded being free to chortle at everyone else's mistakes. Francis explained the moves as they demonstrated together.

"Turn in with your right foot, then, while still with your weight on that side, lean onto your partner so you can kick up with your left."

He arched back, letting Gillian snap her leg towards the rafters. As they straightened up, he heard a loud squeal, followed by the loud crash of two bodies hitting the floor. Francis whirled around.

"What happened?"

Kim disentangled herself from her partner and stood up, frowning. "All we were doing was trying that lift! We did what you told us to do, hold the other person around the waist with both arms, and then kick up. But when I grabbed him, Mr. Smooth here flipped out and dropped me."

Yong Soo rolled over from where he had been splayed out on the floor. "I'm ticklish, okay!"

Francis groaned. From her seat on the sidelines, Lovina sniggered heartlessly at his predicament. Next to her, Antonio watched her face.

"Hey, it's great to see you smile. You should try it more often."

"And it was great to not hear your voice. You should try it more often," She responded rudely. Feigning indifference,  Lovina slouched, stretching her legs and sliding down to the edge of her seat. “If we're not dancing at a _dance_ rehearsal, what's the point of being here?"

"Well, if you want to dance...we could, you know.  Want to try some moves?"

"Wh...no! I only meant-"

He had already hopped to his feet. "Come on, let's swing!"

Lovina felt herself yanked off the bench and tripped over her own feet as Antonio pulled her aside. Facing her, he positioned her hands whilst announcing directions. "So, guys palms up, girls palms down."

She blinked and looked up at his grin. Suddenly, she felt a creeping suspicion, and snatched her hands away just as he tried to slap them, hard. Antonio laughed.

"Okay, okay...you're pretty smart, aren't you?"

"A lot smarter than you." Lovina felt relieved and even a bit proud at catching onto the game. "Which shouldn't be so hard anyway."

Antonio shrugged, apparently not minding such an insult to his intelligence. "Fine, I promise not to trick you. Let's try the twirl." He fished for her hand, which she twisted out of his reach, eventually hiding it behind her back. "Come on, I _need_ to hold your hand!"

"You hit it last time!"

"I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you." Lovina dodged, but Antonio managed to finally get hold of her hand. "Here."

He shot her a smirk, then bent forward and kissed the back of her fingers. She stared down at him, awed, aghast, and against her will, totally charmed.

Seeing that Lovina was finally incapacitated, Antonio tugged lightly, and she executed a flawless twirl into his arms.

"Very nice. Too bad you two are the _only_ ones who don't need to do that..."

Francis was paying them attention at last. Lovina made a noise reminiscent to a dying beaver, then shoved Antonio away, desperately trying not to turn red. She decided to give her fingernails an in-depth examination whilst Francis yelled for everybody to take their positions for the cha cha portion of the dance. He then ushered Antonio to one end, and Lovina to the other.

"So, basically like in the movie, you guys are going to walk slowly towards the middle -"

"And this needs rehearsing?" Lovina demanded.

“Well, while you’re doing that, I’m moving these people -” Francis waved his hand at the dancers irritably. “To their respective spots so they all mingle. It’s something like crossing the bridge between racial differences, or whatever.”

Antonio blinked. “That’s...pretty deep.”

"Apparently, every small move on stage is significant," Francis grumped, shooting a look at Arthur, who was still barricaded behind the production table with his notes. Only Maddie paid any attention, faithfully jotting down every piece of choreography for reference in the prompt book.

He sighed and turned back to the rest of the cast. "Alright, I have it figured out. It's going to take three counts of eight. It's just that the rest of you have to find a way to get to your new spots within that time without crashing into anyone. I don't care how you do it, because everyone's going to be watching Antonio and Lovina anyway. Just don’t have any head-on collisions." He pulled Gillian to his side. "Now this is what we do when they meet, it's almost exactly like the movie. Antonio, Lovina, you do this too. We all do it at the same time."

He went through the moves and described the simple dance simultaneously. "All the girls will be on the right, like Lovina, and the guys across from her, like Antonio. Boys, be a gentleman and bow. Girls, be the ladies you are and curtsey..."

Gillian tugged at the sides of her pants as she bobbed up and down.

" This part is when it gets almost exactly like the movie. Lovina, stand in front of Antonio. Gill, in front of me."

Lovina begrudgingly obeyed. All the other pairs were staring at them now. Francis and Gillian never had a problem in the limelight, and Antonio probably didn’t even notice, but she had never asked to be a star. Whose idea was this again?

Right. Feliciana’s.

"Up on our toes. Lift arms to the side. If anyone in this cast exists who can't do this, you are an idiot," Francis declared. "Girls turn your head to the left, guys to the right. Now, tiptoe walk sideways in the direction where your head is turned. When you stop, put your arms down. "

Lovina's arm brushed against Antonio's chest. Instinctively, she spread her fingers out and shoved him back. Antonio lost balance and nearly fell into Gillian.

"You’re too close," she tried to claim. Gillian frowned, and Francis rolled his eyes.

“He’s supposed to be close to you! It’s a dance of romance!”

"I'm okay. Watch out next time," Antonio said generously, resuming his position. Lovina would have rather pushed him again.

Francis went on. "Do the exact same thing back. Tiptoe, arms..." The students obeyed the commands. "Heads still looking the same way, demi-plié."

"What?”

"Bend your knees.” He demonstrated. “Feet in first position, which you all should remember learning about in warm-ups. Heels together and toes turned out.”

The general height level of the auditorium momentarily lowered as everybody tried to plie. Some standardization would have to be introduced.

"After you're doing your plié, snap your fingers twice. You'll hear the beat in the music when you're supposed to do it. Watch Gilly and me do it." They went through the entire sequence together. "Allow your body to be more relaxed, and lean back, looking at your partner as you plié. So yeah, you can tilt your head back if you're shorter."

Lovina cursed her height. She was a good height for her age, but Antonio was stupidly tall. Ignoring Francis’s instructions, she only stretched her back with the smallest increment possible and glared up at him through her bangs. He only smiled benignly, like this was some sort of inside joke.

Damn his good looks! Not that she was going to admit he looked good.

"After the plié, gently straighten up, and that's when you snap your fingers. Like..." Francis sang a little as he and Gillian moved up and down with great dignity. "Lalalalalala, snap snap. Lalalalalala, snap snap…and now-"

The two of them changed places, their feet moving in rhythm with the last phrase. Now, Francis was in front and Gillian in the back.

"So, on that last part, you do a turn still on demi-pointe, arms in fifth position – up in the air – until you're back into the original set up, but places swapped."

He and Gillian turned around. People were finishing the moves at different times, trying not to bump into one another and remember what positions had been called out.  Francis sighed.

“Okay, let’s do it again...”

* * *

Francis did not know how many times he had grilled the cast on that one piece of actual ballet choreography. It seemed to mesh all together in his head, and he didn’t feel like listening to a cha-cha for at least the rest of the week now. Unfortunately, there would be another dance rehearsal in three days’ time, so he would have to resign himself to his fate.

“Lalalalala, snap snap! Lalalalala, snap snap!” Gillian giggled heartlessly as she mimicked his instructions from before. “Great vocabulary, Fran-Fran.”

He pulled out his ponytail and began to fluff his hair to remove the kinks. “Oh, shut up. I can’t believe I agreed to do this.”

“I _like_ dance rehearsals. They are way awesome. See my kicks?”

“But you’re not the one leading them. And yeah, of course I did, Miss Ninja.”

Gillian was incredibly pleased with his choice of words and began to karate chop at his waist whilst he gathered all his belongings. Antonio ambled towards them from the crowd, looking happy. Before he could speak, Francis cut him off.

“Looks like we had fun today, didn’t we? Dancing with a certain _someone_? Hey, I saw the look on her face. Smooth moves.”

Antonio grinned and shrugged. Gillian turned and aimed at his arm instead, doubling her speed.

“Who’s her? Lovina? So like, she’s falling and stuff?”

Antonio looked a bit embarrassed. “I dunno about ‘falling’. I still feel like I don’t know her. Normal stuff, like what her hobbies are, what she likes or doesn’t like...even today, I can’t tell if she liked the _dancing_ or not. I don’t even know why she’s in the play.”

“Yeah, she’s like that.” Francis could not offer any advice. Lovina had made it clear that she did not consider him an ally. “You’d be better off figuring that out from Feli, her sister.”

Gillian paused in mid-slice at Antonio’s elbow. “Wait, is this cute Feli? As in, Ludwig’s Feli?”

“Probably.”

“Oh, she’s awesome! Let’s go find her,” she cried, snatching up Antonio’s arm firmly. “I love talking to Feli. Think there’s a sort of art club or whatever she’s in right now. We can ask her no problem, Feli’s a sweetheart. She’ll tell us everything!”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Leonard Bernstein, and Stephen Sondheim.  
> The Cherry Orchard belongs to Anton Chekhov.

Back at her locker, Lovina was quite preoccupied. With one hand pressed against the pile of books that threatened to avalanche to the floor, she stared down at the speckled floor tiles, chewing her lip in concentration. The few others in the hallway gave her the occasional curious glance as they collected their things, but ultimately left her alone.

She was wrestling with her thoughts. It wasn’t about whether she liked Antonio or not – that was out of her control. And against her will...Lovina thumped her head on the edge of the locker, ignoring the shooting pain and stupidity of the action. She did. He was annoying, but he was nice. He was sometimes stupid, but also funny. And more obviously than anything else, Antonio was hot as hell. Lovina felt like screaming and punching herself just for thinking that.

The main problem was that she was also mortified with the fact that he seemed to like her as well. It was practically unfathomable. In their old town, no boy had given her a second glance except for one who was universally disliked for his creepy one-liners and octopus hands. Then even he had dropped her the second Feliciana walked around the corner (and was promptly beaten into a pulp once his groping fingers had wandered towards her sister’s chest).

So, Lovina just did not know how to react to this. There had never been a reason to flirt with anyone. Oh, God – the silly swing dancing earlier today was flirting. She _did_ flirt with him. She pressed her forehead harder against her locker in horror. He was going to _know_! But, wait, was that supposed to be the point? And if he liked her, and she liked him, then...er...things _should_ work out, right?

She was confusing herself now, and the metal was really cutting into her forehead. Slamming her locker shut, Lovina decided to figure it all out at home. Why anyone would want to stay another minute in this stupid place was beyond her.

The nearest exit was on the school’s south side. Lovina headed towards it, still thinking about the rehearsal. Swing dancing might not be so bad. If things kept up, they could still try some moves next time...

“Wow, that’s...a lot of info. I don’t know if I can even remember it all at once.”

She stiffened. By now, she could recognise that lilting, carefree voice from anywhere. Antonio appeared, walking backwards down an intersecting corridor with a look of deep admiration on his face. Lovina’s stomach flipped when he reached up and ruffled his hair and made it even messier.

“Well, yeah! I’ve known all my life! You can ask me again if you forget. Hope it all works out okay!”

Another unmistakable voice – Feliciana walked right after him, with Gillian’s arm around her shoulder and Francis toting her enormous portfolio bag alongside. Antonio had all his attention on Feliciana. Awed expression, nervous gestures, and everything.

Lovina felt like throwing up. Then:

“Yeah, I’m gonna forget. I just know it...haha. So like, can I have your number in case I need to call you?”

The vomit seemed to stop somewhere mid-throat. Lovina thought she was going to die. Feliciana, ever blithe and naïve, chirped back.

“Sure! Let me go put some stuff away first...”

“Okay!”

The group continued down the hallway, not even seeing the girl frozen against a bulletin board just a few metres away from them. Once they were out of earshot, Lovina rushed at the exit. In her flustered state, it took a few agitated attempts before she wrenched the bar forward and flung herself into the chilly air.

At least, there was nothing left to wonder about. He’d made his choice clear.

* * *

The next afternoon, Antonio practically skipped out of his classroom when the bell sounded. He couldn’t wait for rehearsal – yesterday’s had gone so well. Though Francis had left feeling less excited about the production, everything was really looking up.

They’d found Feliciana cleaning up her paints in the art room and had helped her put away all the supplies. There, the whole situation was explained – rather shamelessly and loudly by Gillian, making Antonio feel a bit embarrassed. But Feliciana was truly a sweetheart, and had no problem talking about her sister’s favourite classes, habits, meals, and their family’s history...everything under the sun. It had even been overwhelming. She’d even offered to give him Lovina’s phone number, since he now had hers, but Antonio didn’t want to look like a creeper.

He made a quick detour into the student lounge, making a beeline for a semicircle of squishy couches in one sunny corner. Leaning over the side of one, he poked at the soft belly belonging to a body sprawled out across one of them.

"Mmmmph. Go ‘way!"

"Gill, it's time for rehearsal. We're blocking scenes today!"

"Ngeh?" Gillian groggily pulled herself up into a sitting position. "Wow. I slept through Stats?" She ran her fingers through her silvery hair. "Eh, whatever."

"You gotta watch out how you lie down," Antonio cautioned her. "You could almost see your tattoo."

"Seriously?" Gillian, ever the lady, automatically pulled up her shirt again to examine her side. "Holy. If that gets out to my parents, I'm so dead." She hopped to her feet. "Welp. Let’s get going before Artie does his nut."

They ran down the stairs together over to a large, empty classroom that Arthur had finally been given the green light for preserving solely for play use. Upon entering, the first sight that greeted the two was their dedicated director crouching towards the floor. Gillian ran up and planted a firm kick on the lifted bottom.

"Gah!" Arthur jumped, and an odd ripping sound was heard. He turned and glared, the masking tape in his hands now tangled and wasted.

She shrugged. "Your butt is just that irresistible. In all the wrong ways."

Antonio dropped his bag and wandered over. "What are you doing?"

"Taping the dimensions of the stage, so we can block without falling offstage and not realizing it," Arthur explained. He bent down to continue, and promptly walked backwards into Maddie, who had been hidden under a massive pile of books in her arms. Before she could drop them, Gillian had scooped up a few.

"Thanks.”

"Awesome shirt!" Gillian poked the younger girl in the stomach. "Polar bear in a snowstorm, right? I saw that online!"

At that point, the door banged open and Alfred scampered in. Maddie nearly fell over again when he attacked her with an enormous hug.

"Hey, baby sis!" He let go of her and Maddie commenced breathing once more. Alfred beamed at the others. "Hi, guys. What are we doing today?"

Arthur sighed dramatically before abandoning his tape and picking up his director’s notebook. It was already fat from notes, with scribbles covering the pages. The growing crowd of students waited for instructions.

"Let's do sectionals. Antonio and Al, you guys go with HK outside to work on the second scene when you meet at Doc's. Everyone else is a Shark, so we're doing the scene after the dance right before 'America.' " He flipped the page. "After that, we’ll run the balcony scene when Lovina gets here."

"You mean the fire escape scene," HK said.

"Whatever." Arthur rolled his eyes. “You know it’s essentially _Romeo and Juliet_.”

HK picked up a script, walked to the door and opened it, looking back expectantly. Alfred grinned at Antonio, clapping him on the shoulder, and the boys left. Arthur frowned at his watch.

"Where the hell is that bloody pervert idiot? He's got the first line, damn him."

He might have continued with a few more curse words, hadn’t the subject in question strolled through the doorway, almost on cue.

"Aw, waiting for me?"

"Yes, you imbecile. Blocking. Scene five. Now."

"Someone really needs to pull that stick out of your ass."

"Would you quit lazing around? It's end of January! Show goes up in April! There's no time to lose!" Arthur shooed the group into the big rectangle of tape. There was work to be done.

* * *

The hallway was completely void of people, which was a good thing. Nobody was around to disrupt the Jet leads’ sectional. Not that Antonio and Alfred needed any herding. They were both devoted to their roles, which was definitely helped by the fact that Antonio was a hardworking guy with a hidden well of talent, and Alfred…Alfred was _very enthusiastic_. If only he didn’t feel like adding an entire speech of his own commentary after every line was necessary.

"What's wrong with you? Four and one-half year, I live with a buddy and his family. Four and one-half year, I think I know a man's character. Buddy boy -" Alfred squinted at the crumpled pack of paper in his hands. "I am a victim of disappointment in you."

Antonio slapped him on the shoulder, lines already memorized and script discarded. "Then end your suffering, little man. Why don't you pack up your gear and clear out?"

"'Cause your ma's got the hots for me." Alfred blinked. "Wait. Did he just say ‘your mom’, basically?"

“Er…yeah, I guess.” HK had barely said a word throughout this entire time, opting instead to let the actors plough their way through the scene. He didn’t move from spot on the floor, cross-legged and learning on one arm, resting his chin on his fist. “Remember that the characters actually aren’t much older than us. So they can be pretty immature. And Tony and Riff are bros, like bro bros.”

“Oh!” You could almost see the lightbulb brightening over Alfred’s head. Before he could comment again, the floor unexpectedly rose up to meet him – and he found himself kneeling over, right cheek planted firmly into the floor. Antonio grabbed his arm and deftly twisted it around his back.

HK sat up a little straighter in surprise. That was eerily quick.

"Oww! Can’t see m’script!”

"Oh...uh, Antonio? Good job, but Al needs to know his next line."

The intense expression gradually eased off Antonio’s face. “Oh? Oh, right! Sorry.” He handed the stapled pack of papers back to Alfred, who sat up and smiled ruefully back, massaging his shoulder. Some people had such inner strength, and this wasn’t some hipster-zen statement. Literal inner strength.

"Let's try that again. Find a way to get him to the floor without obstructing his face, so he can still say his lines."

Alfred opened his mouth to voice a suggestion, but Antonio had grabbed his arm again. This time, Alfred merely lost balance and his knees crashed to the floor.

"YOW!"

"Whoops! Sorry!"

HK reluctantly shifted his weight. He was going to have to really do something after all.

"Let’s learn how to perform a stage fall, okay?"

Alfred gingerly got to his feet. "That would be great, thanks."

* * *

An hour later, they were back in the classroom. After the Sharks had left, Arthur had run through Antonio and Alfred’s scene a few times with a few pointers and opinions of his own. His notebook, opened to a clean and innocent page at the start of the rehearsal, was now sullied with comments and ideas from margin to margin. It was virtually unreadable, making Maddie’s life as stage manager suffer as she tried to decipher the scribbles and turn them into somewhat organised lists.

Arthur finally declared Alfred finished with and booted him out of the room, then turned to the others. “Five minute break! No more, no less!”

He snatched up his notebook and strode out the door, apparently intending to pore over them in the bathroom. Maddie stretched and sighed, and HK immediately pulled out his phone. Antonio sidled over to Lovina, who had been pretending to be completely immersed in her book for the past twenty minutes. She hadn’t looked at or spoken to anyone, even now as he sat down in the chair next to her.

“Hey!” Antonio waited for a response. None came.

“So, whatcha reading?”

Lovina turned the page.

“Is it for class? Or just for fun?” He tried to read the title. “ _The Cherry Orchard_. What’s it about?”

Antonio was forced to sit in awkward silence for three more minutes as Lovina did an excellent job of pointedly ignoring him. Arthur strolled back into the room, looking satisfied.

“Break’s over! Alright, hopefully this won’t take very long.” He put his notebook back on the table and scratched his eyebrows. “We’ve been here for a while, especially you, Antonio. Let’s just run this a few times, then discuss notes. And maybe you two can practice on your own sometime.”

Lovina snorted derisively, tossing the book carelessly behind her. She snatched up her script and followed Arthur to the taped rectangle. Antonio followed suit.

“Lovina, those two chairs are where we’re going to put the fire escape. Don’t worry, you won’t move very much in the scene anyway. Let’s start from the top.”

She obliged by hoisting herself onto the seat. Antonio found himself being glared down on. It was very unnerving. He was confused, but there was nothing to do but press on with the rehearsal.

"Maria, Maria!"

"Shhh. Quiet."

"Come down!"

"No, it is dangerous."

"I'm not one of them."

Lovina’s eyes narrowed as she responded flatly. “You are, but to me, you are not. Just as I am one of them.”

Arthur waved his hands as a signal for them to pause. “Lovina! Don’t cover your face with the script! Look at him, for Pete’s sake. Could you _please_ try to get the emotion of the scene?”

Antonio looked back up at her. Lovina had transferred her glare to Arthur (who was matching it with impeccable ease). Antonio suddenly felt miserable, like he was responsible for her clear lack of interest in acting right now.

“Do it over,” Arthur ordered.

Lovina lowered her script reluctantly. Antonio wanted to apologise, but for what? He didn’t even know.

“Maria...”

“Quiet.”

* * *

Lovina crammed her script into her backpack, not caring at how it scrunched and threatened to rip. It had never been her wish to be in this stupid play anyway, and this had been the worst rehearsal yet. Antonio had spent the entire half hour staring up at her with these wide, green puppy eyes. She’d wanted to stab them, stab them with a pen. I hate him, Lovina reminded herself, and only remembered _The Cherry Orchard_ at the last second.

“Hey, Lovina?”

She walked out of the room without saying goodbye to anyone. Unfortunately, he followed.

“Are you okay?”

No. She didn’t voice it, just continued walking.

"So...Arthur says we should practice on our own. I can help you with the Spanish. If you need it."

Lovina rolled her eyes. Just as she was about to turn the corner, he reached out and touched her shoulder. Her eyes widened.

“Look, you seem kind of upset today an-”

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. It was the first non-scripted thing she had said to him all day.

“I – sorry. It’s just,” Antonio floundered, looking truly lost and bewildered. “Well, did…did Feli say anything about me last night?”

Unbelievable. Lovina’s jaw dropped. What. An absolute. Asshole. She said this out loud.

“…Me?”

“See anyone else around?”

“But what did I do?” He was beginning to look wounded. Even a whine had crept into his tone. Lovina despised it.

“You’re not going to get her,” she said in her best disdainful tone. “Just because she’s all cute at you doesn’t mean anything. She’s just like the dumb lady in this play -” Lovina waved _The Cherry Orchard_ in his face. “– nice to everyone. You’re not a special case! She’s not interested. And I won’t let your slimy ass near her anyway.”

“I thought we were doing okay,” Antonio did not comprehend. “I thought you, I mean, she said -”

“Go away!” Lovina shouted, suddenly sounded on the verge of tears. “Leave me alone!”

“Wait!” He tried to grab her arm. Lovina screamed, covering her face and swinging as hard as she could. The book wasn’t very thick, but when the corner of the spine connected with Antonio’s jawline, the sound seemed to echo down the hall.

Lovina gasped in horror as he reeled backwards in shock and pain.

Then, she ran.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim.

The student lounge at Hetalia High remained free for as long the school was open, but for some reason not that many people chose to use it for lunching purposes. Antonio considered himself lucky for this. He sat on the couches in the corner, knees pulled up to his chest. Beside him, Francis munched away at a sandwich. Shadows crossed over them as Gillian paced up and down in front of the windows.

“I have no idea what made her so angry.”

“Maybe she’s just crazy!” Gillian twisted around to examine the bruise forming on Antonio’s chin. He ducked his head behind his knees sulkily. “Crazy girl going around whackin’ people.”

Francis unscrewed a water bottle. “What did you say to her? She might have misinterpreted something.”

“I don’t know! I just say whatever comes to mind. It wasn’t a problem before.”

Gillian plopped down on his other side and kicked her feet up on the ledge. Reaching for a baggie of carrot sticks, she snapped one noisily. “That’s what you think. You say some pretty weird crap sometimes.”

Antonio unfurled himself, twisting around on the couch. Hooking his legs over the back and letting his head dangle off the side, he sighed dramatically. “Once, she was blushing and I said it was kind of like a tomato.”

He lay there, upside-down and somber as his friends reacted to the news. Francis nearly spat water all over himself as Gillian squawked, “A tomato?”

“Yeah like, all red and cute. I told you I just say whatever comes to mind!”

Gillian had already stopped listening, rolling around with spasms of laughter.

“You called her a tomato! Awesome! Like, actually awesome, I am in awe!” She straightened into a sitting position, necklace askew. “No lie, I’d hit you too. Antonio, my friend…that is the stupidest metaphor I have ever heard of.”

“It was a simile,” Francis corrected.

“Whatever.”

Antonio flapped his hands impatiently. “So what should I do? Apologise?”

Gillian snorted. “No! You didn’t do anything. Except for saying something dumb, but that ain’t a crime.”

Francis returned the bottle to his bag. “I’d say just give her some space for the time being. She can stay moody for a very long time. Be respectful to her wishes, that’s all we can do for now.”

“She seems kind of a bitch to me,” Gillian said.

Antonio sat up. “Don’t be so harsh, you don’t even know her.”

“Neither do you!”

Their voices were beginning to rise, so Francis hastily raised a hand. “Guys, drop it. Class time. Let’s go.”  


* * *

It had been a long rehearsal, but Arthur felt an immense rush of relief washing over him. The most acting-heavy song, particularly one that required so many individual roles, had finally been blocked. True, the blocking had been cobbled together in a slap-dash, simple manner (he had stolen several ideas from the film), but the most important thing was that the song was finished. Herding this motley crew of teenage boys from mark to mark had been a right headache at certain points, but Arthur was pleased.

The process might have felt less painful if it weren’t for _him_.

Alfred was the main obstacle of the day, although the guy probably wasn’t even trying to be. It seemed that for every direction or piece of blocking Arthur had given, Alfred had three ideas of his own on how the song should work. And he was persistent about using them, rendering blunt rejection useless. At least half of the past hour had been spent arguing, and Arthur had been tired of it by the second verse.

But it hadn’t even put a dent into Alfred’s reserve of energy. Surrounded by the other Jets, he gesticulated wildly, probably telling some ridiculous story of his many achievements. A laugh bubbled up from them, triggering a frown from Arthur. That was almost involuntary, but could he help feeling irritated right now?

A sharp jab in his side snapped him out of his funk, and he let out an incredibly undignified yelp. Arthur turned around to see HK giving him his ‘innocent’ face.

"Oh, I thought you said you weren't ticklish anymore." He calmly held up a script. "Maddie's done writing everything down into the prompt."

"Fine. Thanks." Arthur turned his attention back to the Jets. "Alright, everybody up! I want to see the song in full."

There was a collective groan from the crowd.

“From the very beginning? I don’t even know if I can remember…”

“But it’s like, almost four thirty.”

“You said we still need to stay after too. I’m beat!”

Only Alfred remained cheerful, and hopped off his chair willingly. “Aw, come on, guys! We can do this!” He mimed kicking Yong Soo’s butt, so that his friend begrudgingly got to his feet.

Arthur pointed at the Korean boy. “From your line. Cops believe…”

Yong Soo took a quick look at his script before rolling it up. "Cops believe everything they read in the papers!"

Alfred pushed him aside and circled the rest of the Jet boys, who were settling into their positions. "To them, we ain't human. We're cruddy juvenile delinquents. And that's what we give 'em!"

He waited for a response, but the only one he received was a whack on the head from Yong Soo’s script. "Hey, you!"

Alfred spun around, exaggerating every move. "Me, Officer?"

"Yeah, you! Give me one good reason for not draggin' ya down to the station house, punk!"

Everyone else clustered around Alfred as he began to sing.

_Deeeeeaaaaar_   
_Kindly Sergeant Krupke,_   
_You gotta understand!_   
_It's just our bringing up-ke,_   
_That gets us outta hand!_   
_Our mothers all are junkies,_   
_Our fathers all are drunks!_   
_Golly, Moses,_   
_Naturally we're punks!_

They all crawled towards Yong Soo, faces twisted into mocking expressions of indignation.

_Gee, Officer Krupke,_   
_We're very upset!_   
_We never had the love that_   
_Every child oughta get._   
_We ain't no delinquents,_   
_We're misunderstood!_   
_Deep down inside us, there is good._

"There is good!" Alfred shouted. The boys sprang up, smirking and pushing each other around in a mockery of playfulness and innocence. The song was all about exaggeration and mugging, after all.

_There is good,_   
_There is good,_   
_There is untapped good!_   
_Like, inside the worst of us_   
_Is GOOD!_

Yong Soo let out a loud, theatrical sniff as he dragged one of his long sleeves across his face.

"That's a touchin' good story!"

"Let me tell it to the world!"

THWACK. "Just tell it to the judge!"

Yong Soo handed the script to Berwald, who was promptly herded behind two chairs with much clamour and fuss. Another cast member helped Yong So drag Alfred by the jacket to deposit him in front of Berwald. The leader of the Jets widened his eyes and put on a childish pout.

_Deeeeeaaaaar_   
_Kindly Judge your Honor,_   
_My parents treat me rough!_   
_With all that marijuana,_   
_They won't give me a puff!_   
_They didn't wanna have me,_   
_But somehow, I was had!_   
_Leapin' lizards,_   
_That's why I'm so bad!_

Berwald nodded curtly before turning to Yong Soo. "Right!"

_Officer Krupke,_   
_You're really a square._   
_This boy don't need a judge,_   
_He needs an analyst's care._   
_It's just his neurosis_   
_That oughta be curbed,_   
_He's psychologically disturbed._

"I'm disturbed!" sang Alfred.

“I have no doubt,” Arthur muttered from the production table.

_We're disturbed,_   
_We're disturbed,_   
_We're the most disturbed!_   
_Like, we're psychologically disturbed!_

Berwald slammed the rolled-up script down on top of the chairs. He hastily tried to smooth out the crumples as he read out his lines.

"Hear ye, hear ye. In the opinion of this court, this child is depraved on the account that he ain't had a normal home."

Alfred perked up at this. "Hey, I'm depraved on the account that I'm deprived!"

Berwald hit him with the script again before declaring, "So take him to a head-shrinker!"

This suggestion was met with cheers. The script, now in very poor shape, was tossed around before finally snatched up by Adam, who used his long legs to clamber up onto the chair before hopping down and sitting in it. He dramatically flicked open the script and placed it across his legs, now crossed daintily. Alfred lay on the floor at his feet. While he sang, Adam mimed writing as the other Jets huddled behind them.

_Myyyyyyy_   
_Father is a bastard._   
_My ma's an S.O.B._   
_My grandpa's always plastered._   
_My grandma pushes tea!_   
_My sister wears a mustache ,_   
_My brother wears a dress!_   
_Goodness, gracious,_   
_That's why I'm a mess!_

Adam uncrossed his legs and stood up. "Yes!"

_Officer Krupke,_   
_You're really a slob._   
_This boy don't need a doctor,_   
_Just a good honest job._   
_Society's played him_   
_A terrible trick!_   
_And, sociologically, he's sick!_

"I AM SICK!" Alfred pumped one fist into the air.

_We are sick,_   
_We are sick,_   
_We are sick, sick, SICK!_   
_Like, we're sociologically sick!_

Awful retching noises and moans sounded as the boys rolled around on the floor, faking all sorts of ridiculous diseases. Darting around two Jets who were clutching each other and wailing, Adam readjusted his imaginary glasses and turned to Yong Soo.

"In my opinion, this child does not need to have his head shrunk at all. Juvenile delinquency is purely a product of social disease."

Alfred paused in his writhing and choking to look up with a winning smile. "Hey, I got a social disease!"

He was silenced by another whack of the script. Adam stood up and smiled at the audience.

"So take him to a social worker!"

"Oooh, a social worker!" After a huge, pantomimed scuffle, Raivis found himself propped up on all sides by the other Jets and staring into Alfred's grinning face.

_Deeeeeaaaaar_   
_Kindly Social Worker!_   
_They say go earn some dough._   
_Like be a soda jerker,_   
_Which means like be a shmoe!_   
_It's not I'm anti-social,_   
_I'm only anti-work!_   
_Glory-osky,_   
_That's why I'm a jerk!_

Raivis pushed Alfred away, sending him tumbling to the floor. “Officer Krupke, you’ve – ”

“Nooo, stop! Hold on,” Arthur shouted, waving an arm at Roderich. The music trailed off. “Higher, Raivis.”

The freshman paled. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

“But…it sounds so ridiculous.”

“That’s the point!”

“Come on, it’ll be hilarious!” Alfred loomed in closer, teeth bared in a wide grin. “Everyone’s gonna love you for it. It’s my favourite part of the song, and it’s all because of you.”

The other Jets voiced agreement. Raivis turned back to the production table, still looking pained, but all Arthur could do was shrug. Finally, there was a reluctant nod, then a cheer. The boys scrambled back into position while Alfred laughed and clapped Raivis heartily on the back. Arthur could not help sensing that it was another ‘score’ for the jock in their unofficial competition for leadership. It irritated him.

Raivis patted his face self-consciously, as if that would relieve some of his embarrassment. Then he took a deep breath and began: in the highest, squeakiest tone he could muster. Roderich’s backup music covered any voice cracking.

_Eeee!_   
_Officer Krupke,_   
_You've done it again!_   
_This boy don't need a job,_   
_He needs a year in the pen!_   
_It ain't just a question_   
_Of misunderstood!_   
_Deep down inside him,_   
_HE'S NO GOOD!_

"I'M NO GOOD!" Alfred whooped.

_We're no good,_   
_We're no good,_   
_We're no earthly good,_   
_Like, the best of us is no damn good!_

Vash and Adam grabbed their fearless leader by the arms and dragged him to the end of the line that the rest of the Jets were forming. Alfred staggered up, just to be pushed down the line along with the battered script, each boy bestowing an insult and a blow to the head every time he passed.

"The trouble is he's lazy!"

"The trouble is he drinks!"

"The trouble is he's crazy!"

"The trouble is he stinks!"

"The trouble is he's growing!"

"The trouble is he's grown!"

At the end, Alfred was shoved into Yong Soo's arms.

_KRUPKE, WE GOT TROUBLES OF OUR OWN!_

Alfred knelt at his feet, the others followed suit.

_Gee, Officer Krupke,_   
_We're down on our knees._   
_'Cause no-one wants a fella with a social disease._   
_Gee, Officer Krupke,_   
_What are we to do?_

Alfred suddenly got up, grabbed the script and finally got to take his revenge with a satisfying whack onto Yong Soo's head.

_Gee, Officer Krupke,  
KRUP YOU!_

The song ended to a smattering of applause. A small audience had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, thanks to the Shark boys who had been summoned to appear after the Jets rehearsal. A few of them looked rather envious, clearly wishing that they had a fun little number of their own. Arthur looked at HK.

"Ready?"

His friend stood up slowly from behind the table. "I suppose."

Arthur turned back to the large group of boys. "Right, everyone. I'm turning the rest of this session over to HK and Francis. They're going to teach you the choreography and stage combat for the Prologue and the Rumble -"

He was interrupted by a collective gasp, and excited chatter broke out. Some of the boys automatically began to roughhouse, throwing fake punches, pretending to strangle and catch each other in headlocks. Arthur banged his fist down onto the table.

“Stop that! Stop now! Listen up, all of you. Stage combat is serious stuff. It’s not about beating each other up, it’s not about being ‘badass’, the whole point is to make sure nobody gets hurt. You won’t even be touching, for the most part. If this session has to come to an end because someone’s got blood streaming down their face, the entire production will be in jeopardy. Do not ruin this for yourselves and your castmates. Pay close attention to what HK tells you, or else. Safety is the most important part.”

There was a silence as the boys sheepishly broke apart. Arthur retreated behind the table, leaving HK standing alone in front of the group of boys. The sophomore glanced around, realizing that he was much shorter than most of the other people in the room

“Well, okay. I guess I don’t really have to give the safety lecture anymore then. Thanks, Arthur.” HK scratched his chest self-consciously. “Um, yeah. He’s right. Even though we want to impress people in the audience with our sick moves, we also want to make sure none of you guys actually end up getting hurt. Think of how stuntmen are used to protect movie stars. They’re not superhuman with bionic bodies, or anything, they just know how to avoid injury and look cool about it.

His eyes darted around the room before finally settling on Alfred. “For example, Al did something like a backwards roll in the song. Not bad, but this floor is pretty hard, isn’t it?

Alfred laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Kinda, yeah!”

"Thought so. Gymnasts roll straight on their spines because they will always have a mat beneath them. Actors don't always have the luxury; they might have to do stuff on wood or concrete. So we have to protect the spine." HK pulled a yoga mat out from beneath the table. "The only kind of protection I have right now is a yoga mat, which is really thin. So, we're going to have you roll off your shoulder and diagonally across your back. Be sure to tuck your head in to protect your skull. It’s still going to look the same."

Alfred nodded enthusiastically, and after a few demonstrations from HK, began practicing his roll.

“Wait, what about us? Teach us something too! Like a roundhouse kick, or something!”

"We get weapons, right? I mean, Bernardo and Riff die by knives."

Francis was tying up his hair again. “You guys get to fight through dance. Today, HK’ll work with Antonio and Alfred, and everyone else gets me.”

Sadiq made the mistake of frowning. “Aw, that sucks.”

He was startled when a ponytailed figure shot to his side. “Are you saying…you don’t want to be with me?”

“No. I just wanted to learn some…”

“Then thank you, Mr. Adnan, for volunteering. You will be my first partner.” Francis grasped Sadiq’s wrist firmly and began dragging him towards the other side of the room, where Roderich waited patiently with his piano. The other boys followed suit, a few sniggering mercilessly.

Arthur snorted. “Well, I don't think we’ll be able to make it to the fight sequence today anyway. The Prologue is pretty long," He told Maddie. HK had begun showing Alfred the moves of his fight, taking the role of Bernardo in Francis’s place. Arthur observed them for a moment thoughtfully.

“You know, they had a point about the knives. When do you think we’ll be able to start using them?”

Maddie pushed her glasses up and hefted the prompt book to a different page, near the beginning. “Sanun volunteered as props master. He wanted to do set design, but your ‘minimal’ look doesn’t require all that much. When he complained, we gave him props. That was last week though, so I haven’t even compiled a list yet.”

“Well, it’s two collapsible knives, at least. Maybe a few more just to be careful, and for show.” Arthur leaned forward and searched the room with his eyes. “Where the hell is Antonio? He needs to learn this too!”

His stage manager calmly flipped the pages to find the contact master list. “Don’t worry, I’ll text him. Maybe something’s up. Did you see him the other day? Seemed kind of down.”

She began to type as Arthur scoffed loudly. “Antonio is the most carefree person you’ll ever meet. Nothing ever fazes him. Trust me, I would know after all these years. He probably just forgot and is assisting Gillian Beilschmidt in some stupid prank.”

Maddie carefully averted her eyes as she put down the phone. “Anyway, our costume designer says he’s almost done with the preliminary sketches and wants to see you about budget soon. Apparently, these outfits are going to be absolutely -”

“Fabulous,” Arthur said wearily. “As usual.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for bearing with my long absence! It's been intense with my original writing for NaNoWriMo (of which I'm an ML) as well as for my MFA course. But I'm taking a break from all that this month to go back to fanfic. Fun fluffy times ahoy!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Leonard Bernstein, and Stephen Sondheim.

Feliciana loved her pyjamas. They were a pale, creamy yellow, the colour of freshly rolled egg pasta dough. Both the top and bottoms were decorated with a pattern of bright orange triangles, reminding her a little bit of pizza, along with small black ovals scattered in between, as if someone had sprinkled olives over it all. Around her neckline, a green fettuccine-like ribbon threaded through ended in a neat bow. Oh, now she was getting kind of hungry.

She lifted her hand and rapped smartly upon the door, an identical twin to the one next to it. Their house was cozy and narrow, but it compensated with three floors. The girls had the top floor all to themselves, sharing a balcony facing the street. When Lovina didn’t reply to her knocking, Feliciana skipped through her own room and out the sliding door unthinkingly.

Freezing air smacked some sense into her as her bare feet touched down on the cold concrete. As much as she loved their design, the thin cotton pyjamas had no chance against an early February night. Yelping like a spaniel, she scampered towards the other side of the house and slammed a hand on the other door. Her toes curled up in an attempt to stay warm.

“Lovi!” Feliciana waved frantically. Her sister was hunched over her laptop, headphones plugged in. Lovina favoured a pale pink nightgown, shapeless and airy. Feliciana hugged her pizza-and-olive-dotted shirt to herself. “Lovinaaaa!”

She smacked the glass again, and Lovina finally glanced up. With one incredulous look, she yanked off the headphones, walked over and slid the door open. Feliciana shot inside and burrowed beneath the bedcovers. “What the hell were you doing out there?”

“You didn’t answer the door!”

Lovina settled back into her chair. “You have your own room, you know.”

“But I like it in here.” Both of the girls were messy, but in different ways. Feliciana’s side had posters and pictures tacked up everywhere, to the point that hardly any wallpaper was left to be seen. Her desk was cluttered with art supplies, loose papers, and small gifts or tokens from her friends. Lovina, on the other hand, was a packrat. Her bookshelves, already filled up to the brim, were also home to various little knickknacks – a button that had fallen off, a bottle of nail polish, hair ties and key chains. The floor was hazardous terrain, as Lovina often tossed things there and left them, from clothes to bags to even her crumpled _West Side Story_ script. Feliciana reached down from her perch on the bed and began leafing through it.

“How’s your rehearsal stuff goin’?”

She wasn’t looking up, so she didn’t notice Lovina stiffen ever so slightly. “Fine.”

“I’m so glad you joined!”

“Yeah, because you forced me into it.”

“But you’re making friends, right? Like, tell me what you think about them.” Feliciana rolled over onto her back and smiled playfully. “You’re the leading lady! And that guy, Antonio, he’s the leading man…”

Her sister’s face was like stone. “Uh huh. What do you want.”

“I just met him the other day, is all. He seems pretty nice. Do you think he’s cute?”

Lovina shot back, “Do _you_ think he’s cute?”

“Um…he’s…okay.” Feliciana sat up. It would be very bad to have Lovina thinking that there was any rivalry between them, as that would be completely awkward and completely wrong. “Not my type. But you two would look good together!”

“In your dreams,” Lovina grumped. She snatched the headphones up again, but Feliciana was there in a flash.

“Come on! Give him a chance,” she whined, clutching the headphones.

“You’re gonna break them!”

“You’re gonna break him!”

Lovina laughed. Feliciana was so surprised that she let go of the headphones.

“He’s not your type, so why do you think he’s mine? Antonio’s an idiot. I can’t stand him.”

But her tone was way too casual. A faint flush appeared on her cheeks. Feliciana frowned. “Be honest, Lovi.”

“Are you calling me a liar now?” The smile disappeared. “Are you freaking serious?”

“No, I just think that we should -”

“Get out.”

“I’m sorry! I just wanted -”

“OUT!” Lovina grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. Now her face was really red, and scrunched up as if she had eaten a lemon. Feliciana hovered next to the desk in a slight panic. Francis had said there wouldn’t be a problem, that Lovina and Antonio were _totally into_ each other. And that was just two days ago. They hadn’t even had rehearsal together since then, so what had happened?

As she exited meekly, Lovina left a few inches open to add some parting words.

“If you see his stupid ass again, tell him not to talk to me outside of whatever eyebrow freak makes us do, and I am not gonna be part of his skirt-chasing schemes. I mean, he’s Francis’s friend, Feli. What a creeper. I wish he’d just leave me alone.”

The door closed in Feliciana’s face.

* * *

"Antonio, Is everything okay?"

Roderich leaned forward, his hands on his knees. His friend averted his eyes reluctantly.  

"Yeah, I'm fine."

“Well, your breath control isn’t. You’re dropping the energy at the end of each line. If it’s some sort of intentional volume thing, stop. It’s not working.” Roderich softened. “Hey, look. Whatever’s going on in your life, don’t let it bother you too much. I know it sounds hard, but try leaving some of that baggage at the door of the rehearsal. You’re doing well otherwise.”

Antonio squirmed restlessly. “What if the thing that’s bothering me isn’t outside the rehearsal, but in it?”

“…Is it Arthur?” Roderich had already been hearing a few complaints about their taskmaster director. However, they hadn’t been that serious, and most people did so in a begrudgingly respectful manner. 

“Oh, no. You know what…forget it.”

He was more than happy to. Roderich wanted no part in whatever petty drama was happening around him. It was disinclination out of sheer lack of concern, as well as laziness. He just didn’t have the energy to get involved. “Fine. From the top, one last time for luck.”

Antonio managed to rouse himself enough to sing along.

_Could it be?_   
_Who knows?_   
_There's something due, any day_   
_I don't know, right away_   
_Soon as it shows..._

_It may come cannonballing down through the sky,  
Gleaming inside, bright as a rose!_

_Who knows?_   
_It's only just, out of reach,_   
_Down the block, by the beach,_   
_Under a tree..._

_I got a feeling there's a miracle due,  
Gonna come true, coming to me!_

To Roderich’s satisfaction, Antonio held the notes until the end. Antonio’s head bobbed unconsciously as the music bounced to the syncopation.

_Could it be?_   
_Yes, it could!_   
_Something's coming,_   
_Something good._   
_If I can wait..._

_Something's coming,_   
_I don't know what it is_   
_But it is gonna be great!_

_With a click,_   
_With a shock._   
_Phone or jingle, door'll knock._   
_Open the latch..._

_Something's coming,_   
_Don't know when, but it's soon_   
_Catch the moon, one handed catch!_

As the song progressed, he finally got into the emotional swell of the song, matching meaning to volume.

_Around the corner,_   
_Or whistling down the river!_   
_Come on, deliver, to me!_

_Will it be?_   
_Yes, it will!_   
_Maybe just by holding still,_   
_It'll be there..._

_Come on, something!_   
_Come on in, don't be shy,_   
_Meet a guy, pull up a chair!_

_The air is humming._   
_And something great is coming!_

_Who knows?_   
_It's only just, out of reach,_   
_Down the block, by the beach,_

_Maybe...tonight?_

Antonio’s voice wavered as it trailed off. When Roderich stopped playing, he lifted a hand in apology. “Sorry, I was running out of breath…”

“No problem. That was much better.”Roderich turned to another tab in his binder. "You’re done for today. Gillian and Lovina should be waiting outside. Can you call them in?"

"Ah…sure." Antonio opened the door and leaned out. "Gill! You guys are up."

He leaned back hastily as the girls entered the tiny practice room. Gillian slapped him on the shoulder, but Lovina drifted past him, mute as a statue.

“Great. See you, Antonio.”

Antonio waved at Roderich. “See ya.” He turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. “Oh, I almost forgot my, um…”

He glanced at the girls perched on two folding chairs. Gillian’s was flush against the wall, closer to the piano, but Lovina was sitting closer, next to her. Everybody turned to see Antonio’s books and bag piled in the corner. An awkward assembly line was created, from Gillian gathering the items and tossing them over to Lovina, who handed them over to Antonio, still keeping her vow of silence.

Antonio mumbled an embarrassed thank you and took off. Roderich was feeling a little impatient by this point.

"Did you listen to the song as I told you?" Nods all around. "Fine, then we'll just run through them once, and I'll give you notes and straighten messy bits up afterward. I trust both of you. Need a warm up?"

He started to play some scales before neither finished responding, so they jumped straight into the singing. Lovina knew that it had been awkward because of her. She was the one who was ignoring Antonio, and the bruise on his chin, now faded to a mottled yellow, was all her fault. She didn’t care, she thought privately. The awkward part was more in part that Gillian was also giving her the silent treatment. Although Lovina had no problem with some peace from the other girl’s incessant, narcissistic chatter, one would have to be really dense to think that it wasn’t on purpose. Gillian was Antonio’s friend, and now she was picking a side.

Lovina reminded herself that she didn’t care. Gillian could joke with Antonio and make fun of Roderich without including her. She was fine with that.

“So remember, this is a conversation between your characters. Anita and Maria consider each other as sisters, and they’ll tell each other anything,” Roderich said to them. “Make as if you’re best friends.”

He didn’t register the stony silence that followed this, as he was drumming out the opening chords.

_A boy like that,_   
_Who killed your brother._   
_Forget that boy,_   
_And find another._   
_One of your own kind,_   
_Stick to your own kind._

_A boy like that,_   
_Will bring you sorrow._   
_You will meet_   
_Another boy tomorrow._   
_One of your own kind,_   
_Stick to your own kind._

_A boy who kills_   
_Cannot love._   
_A boy who kills_   
_Has no heart._   
_And he's the boy_   
_Who has your love,_   
_And has your heart!_   
_Very smart, Maria, very smart!_

_A boy like that,_   
_Wants one thing only._   
_And when he's done,_   
_He'll leave you lonely._   
_He'll murder your love,_   
_He murdered mine._   
_Just wait and see,_   
_Just wait, Maria, just wait and see!_

Gillian’s eyes were casually downcast, seemingly focused only on the lyrics in her music. Lovina ignored her too.

_Oh no, Anita, no!_   
_Anita, no..._   
_It isn't true,_   
_Not for me._   
_It's true for you,_   
_But not for me._   
_I hear your words,_   
_And in my head,_   
_I know it's not smart,_   
_But in my heart..._   
_But my heart, Anita, but my heart!_

When Roderich looked over at them, he saw sheets of paper instead of faces. The girls made no attempt at engaging the other, even as their parts rolled into a counterpoint.

_A boy like that,_   
_Who killed your brother._   
_Forget that boy,_   
_And find another._   
_One of your own kind,_   
_Stick to your own kind._

_But my heart knows it’s wrong,_   
_And my heart is too strong,_   
_For I belong to him alone,_   
_To him alone, one thing I know…_

_A boy who kills_   
_Cannot love!_   
_A boy who kills_   
_Has no heart!_   
_And he's the boy_   
_Who has your love_   
_And has your heart!_   
_Very smart, Maria, very smart!_

_I am his._   
_I don’t care what he is._   
_I don’t know why it’s so,_   
_I don’t want to know!_

Roderich stopped them there. "Okay, pause here. The counterpoint’s tricky, I know. Gill, you’re singing more or less the same bit, down to the lyrics and rhythm and stuff, but Lovina’s is harder. Take a break while I work it out with her."

Gillian made a big show of tossing her music onto the floor and yawning widely, stretching out her body like a cat. Lovina’s chin stuck out defiantly, still stubbornly ignoring her. Roderich, who couldn’t care less about this, began to drill the notes with her.

Nobody could get bored more quickly than Gillian. Without really thinking about it, she watched Lovina struggle through the high descant. This was the girl that Antonio had a crush on. Gillian didn’t really understand why, but she supposed she had to respect his feelings, or at least she had to in his presence. Lovina didn’t seem like a very fun person. Gillian often saw her with Feliciana or her brother, Ludwig, almost skulking behind them reluctantly. Even now, her face was a mask of irritation.

Well, of course nobody wants you around if you’re going to be so against everything, Gillian thought. Did she even have any other friends?

As Roderich yakked away about breath control or something, Lovina just looked even more sulky and alone. Gillian realised she almost felt sorry for her. Antonio and Francis had been her best friends since kindergarten, the first day of kindergarten too. Life would have been so incredibly boring without them. She leaned over and picked up her music, shuffling it to order on her lap.

It isn’t their fault, Gillian decided, that some people needed all the help they could get. And Lovina was just so _damn_ lucky to have the awesome Gillian Beilschmidt around to fix her life.

* * *

Typically, Antonio was a big fan of big celebrations. During the holidays, he always got right into the thick of the festivities, whether they were decorations, food, or quirky customs such as strewing toilet paper streamers all over a certain tree at the Edelstein residence. That one was a great favourite of Gillian’s, but Antonio dutifully did his part too.

In spiteof all of this, he was relieved that his birthday came by more or less uneventfully. When class was finished, Francis and Gillian seized ahold of him and they marched over to a local bakery-café located a few blocks away from school for a small, low-key party.

_Happy, happy birthday!_   
_And this is what we say!_   
_Happy, happy birthday,_   
_On this your special day,_   
_HEY!_

_Happy, happy birthday!  
May AAAAAAAAAAALL your DREEAAAAAAMS come TRUUUUUUUEEEEE_

Gillian and Francis exaggerated their swaying as they drew out that line, which resulted in Francis almost toppling to the floor as Gillian shoved him a bit too excitedly.

_Happy, happy birthday,_   
_From all of us, to you!_   
_WHOO!_

Antonio smiled as a server set down a lemony sponge cake, along with their respective beverages, onto the table. “Thanks, guys.”

Gillian grabbed her milkshake and slurped it loudly. “Fran-fran, give him the presents!”

Francis was already dividing the spongy cake into slices. “You do it. They’re in my bag.”

She unzipped eagerly and began to pull out several small packages, some of them flat and slim, others round or knobbly. One of them rattled as she tossed it carelessly onto the tabletop. Antonio’s curiosity was piqued. “And you couldn’t just stick them all into a bag.”

“I guess, but look at the designs we wrapped them in!”

Francis had placed slices into small, individual plates and passed them round. He picked up his coffee and took a genteel, dignified sip. “Alright, Toni. Open them.”

There was a funny mug shaped like a milk bottle, Bruno Mars’s new CD, and a book on the Age of Explorers, Antonio’s favourite period in history. The rattling, round object turned out to be a kitchen timer. Gillian laughed as Antonio pulled it from the crumpled paper.

“See, now that’s what a tomato looks like. And tell me, you think a girl is gonna want to be compared to that?”

“I told you, I wasn’t really thinking about what I was saying!”

“Okay, okay,” she said, but he knew that he was never going to live it down. “Anyway, can we talk about that right now?”

Antonio’s stomach flipped uneasily. He avoided Gillian’s gaze and stirred his hot chocolate diligently, letting the spoon clink loudly against the side of the mug. “Talk about what?”

“Let’s talk about Lovina! Your favourite subject, right?”

“Well, not anymore.” Francis turned a serious eye upon him too. “Toni, let’s be honest. You’re upset. But instead of pouting about how much your love life sucks, you need to take charge and start talking to her again.”

“But…doesn’t it make me an asshole if I keep on annoying her, after she tells me to lay off? I don’t wanna be that guy who can’t take a hint!”

His friends exchanged a glance. “This is so ironic, I can’t even,” Gillian said.

Francis sighed. “Yes, respecting her wishes is one thing, but taking a hint – that’s where you’re seriously wrong. Lovina likes you, but something happened to make her come to the wrong conclusion. So instead of running away to hide under a rock for the rest of eternity, you need to figure out what went wrong and fix it.”

This came unexpectedly to Antonio, who accidentally sloshed some of his hot chocolate onto the table. “How do you know she likes me?”

“I just _know_.” Francis tossed his head in his trademark sexier-than-thou (term coined by Gillian to describe the way he could be simultaneously snobby and attractive) manner. “Of all people, of course I would know.”

Antonio poked his half-eaten slice of cake with a fork. “I…well…what if, what if she keeps on ignoring me and won’t listen? ‘Cause that’s pretty much what’s been happening, I mean I’m not trying anymore anyway though.”

“There, that’s the point,” Francis said encouragingly. “You gave up instead of persisting. Go! Win her back! Show that love conquers all!”

He struck a dramatic pose and behind him, Gillian made a face before striking one herself as a parody. Antonio laughed. It was nigh impossible to stay down with these two around. Francis was pleased.

“Good! And our timing is perfect. Let’s aim for the coming weekend.”

“Why this weekend?”

“Hellooooo! Look at a calendar! Are you so out of it that you can’t even remember the date? It’s your freaking birthday!” Gillian picked up her phone and shoved it into Antonio’s face. “Add two numbers! Do it!”

Understanding dawned over his face. “O-oh…but, that’s so soon. I have no idea what I should…”

“Don’t worry,” his friend declared, snapping her phone shut with a flourish. “Just leave it to me! And Feli. I have the most awesome idea.”

She explained it. It was awesome.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
> West Side Story belongs to Arthur Laurents, Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein.

3:02 PM. The halls of Hetalia High were swarming with students, newly liberated from the clutches of class. Arthur waited in a doorway for the worst of it to pass instead of charging headlong into the fray. As he leaned against the frame and frowned, one particularly giggly gaggle of girls came waltzing by at what seemed to be a glacial pace.

“Did you get mine?”

“Yeah, I got four.”

“Cool! I got a flower _and_ chocolate. Thanks, Fiona.”

“Of course, you’re my best friend.”

“And look who one of these four people is…”

“Oh my GOD!! Tim sent it!”

“That’s soooo sweet!”

“I told you that he likes you! What are you gonna _dooo_?”

Arthur snorted and rolled his eyes. His ears were still pinging from their high pitched squeals. The student council had a brilliant scheme each year selling candy, roses, and the oh-so-cleverly named “Heart-o-grams” to the masses. Though he’d lost count of the amount of people who had passed him clutching some sort of card or gift by now, Arthur wished no part in it. Not only was everything so ridiculously sappy, he privately found it quite awful that some people required a stupid holiday to get off their asses and show some appreciation for their friends and partners. That’s what it ended up to be, anyway. Forget the romance, he only saw people trying to one-up each other in presents and extravagance, and companies jumping on the chance to convince people to buy their goods. What annoyed Arthur the most was that people were willing to take the bait. Valentine’s Day was still considered romantic.

By now, the floodwaters were down to a trickle. He strode down the corridor until he arrived at their main rehearsal room. Arthur already had a hand on the doorknob before realising that there wasn’t anything scheduled today. The cast could have a break, Maddie and HK had suggested. They were already doing so well, it would be alright to give them an early start to their weekend.

He grumpily wheeled around and retraced his steps. So there wasn’t even a distraction from the sickeningly pink and white streamers all over the place. Finally getting to his locker, Arthur spun his combination and swung open the metal door. A torrent of little red hearts cascaded from the opening and onto his feet. Arthur stared, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Were these all for him? In spite of the emptying halls, he heard laughter and whoops from behind.

"Look at Mr. Popular!"

"Never knew you were such a playa!"

Ignoring the catcalls, Arthur knelt down and began tidying up. He felt his cheeks burning, and made a point not to make any eye contact as he tried to scoop the individual papers altogether. The big question was, how in the world did they manage to get into his locker? One of the hearts slipped off the pile. He picked it up.

_Yo Artyfartypants! Feel lucky that you have been graced with a Valentine from the AWESOME me! - Gill_

He ought to have known. At some point in her many visits to the principal, Gillian had managed to swipe the master combination sheet and copy it. Arthur suspected that she’d had assistance from her friends – Francis got along suspiciously well with the attractive young receptionist at the office, who had a reputation for getting easily distracted. In spite of the dangerous repercussions an act like this might have created, the school was generally safe. Nothing was stolen, although Roderich found some unpleasant surprises waiting for him every once in a while. Gillian swore that she had destroyed the copy after getting the specific combinations she wanted, but Arthur had never thought that his might have been one of them.

_À mon Arthur chéri, bonne Saint Valentin! Tu es dans toutes mes pensées…Tes sourcils, j'en rêve jour et nuit. Un cauchemar, J’avoue .xoxo_

Arthur rolled his eyes.

_Hey Arthur, thanks for being such a great director! Have a great Valentine's Day!_

_Roses are red, violets are blue. You deserve a break from all your hard work, it's true!_

_Happy Valentine's Day, Arthur! Take a break and relax today._

_HAPPY VALENTINE'S!!!!!!! Keep up the hard work ~ Fighting!_

There was one from almost every cast member in _West Side Story_. Even if some of them just had the simple three-word greeting and a signature, there were many with personalised and encouraging messages. Arthur struggled to keep the smile off his face. Maddie and HK, it had to be them, rallying the cast around to do such a thing.

Still, that being said…there was one cast member who he hadn’t seen a heart from yet. He looked down at the floor.

There was a slightly crumpled up red heart at his feet, folded in half. Arthur knelt down. Inside was a hidden piece of paper, folded twice so that it could be cunningly concealed.

_Dear Arthur,_

_Happy Valentine's Day!!!_

_Anyway thanks for letting me do your musical thingy, it’s been really fun!!! You’re really good at directing. West Side is gonna be the BEST SHOW EVER!_

_Does this mean we’re friends again?_

_Alfred_

Arthur was slightly aware at how forcefully his knees were pushing into the hard floor, but that he could ignore for now. A churning, hot sensation began in his stomach and began to rise, pushing up through his throat and threatening to reach his lips. Gulping down the sob angrily before it could erupt, Arthur closed his eyes tightly. Anger, sadness, whatever it was, he had to compose himself.

Somebody touched the back of his arm.

He slammed a hand against the locker in front of him, scrunching the valentine and sending a shock of pain through his arm. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

“Uh…”

Arthur turned around. Eyes wide, HK held up his hands, the universal sign of ‘my bad’. His bag was swinging from one shoulder, almost slipping off, from when he’d jumped back in surprise.

Arthur blushed a deep red, guilt and embarrassment washing over him. The corridor was empty, all the other students having wandered off earlier. HK continued to stand there, an expression of mixed apprehension and concern.

“I,” Arthur began. He was still on the floor, the little red heart clutched in his fist. He hadn’t the foggiest idea how to explain himself. “It’s…I just. Er.”                         

It took a few moments before HK lowered his arms. Shrugging to push the bag strap back onto his shoulder properly, he offered a hand and helped Arthur get to his feet. Then, whilst Arthur stood there, dumbfounded, he pried open shaking fingers and extracted the valentine. HK smoothed it out, opened it, and began to read.

Arthur couldn’t do much else but wait for a few seconds that seemed like forever. HK’s eyes zipped back and forth quickly. To his credit, he said not a word when he finished, merely folding it back up again and pressing it into Arthur’s palm.

“Put it away before you lose it,” he told him. Arthur obeyed instantly, moving swiftly like on autopilot. HK waited patiently through the awkward silence.

When Arthur had finally finished adjusting his backpack straps, HK cleared his throat, almost uncertainly. “So, uh. Are you going home?”

His eyes darted around, distracted by a sense of shame for sounding hopeful at the question. Arthur barely noticed, his mind still preoccupied by the small red heart pushed beneath his books.

“Yeah. I’ll write up the band call before I forget. And double check the props list. Find out what the costume budget is. He already bought all the material, did you know that? Didn’t consult me at all. We’ll have to schedule fitting sometime next week, then…”

Arthur babbled on and on, pushing aside his feelings again to focus on his work. HK followed him down the corridor towards the main entrance. When they pushed the doors open and stepped into the cold, Arthur sighed and tugged on his mittens.

“Alright. See you next week. Let’s do an act one run through on Wednesday. I’ll message you and Maddie about it.”

“Bye.” HK watched him march away towards the bus stop, then break into a run after one rolled up, spewing exhaust. After Arthur had scrambled on, the doors closing behind him, HK slowly made his way down the steps, mindful of the puddles.

* * *

Maddie was placing books and binders into her backpack when her ears caught the sound of steps coming towards her. Looking up, she saw Alfred ambling around the corner, heading her way and looking extremely pleased with himself.

"Hey, Mads! Happy Valentine's Day!"

She was instantly crushed into a warm embrace that left her gasping for breath.

"Y-yeah, you too."

He straightened up, but continued to hold on to her by the shoulders.

"You doing anything today? Got a hot date?" With a Cheshire grin, he winked as she blushed furiously.

"No...like that would ever happen." She tried to wriggle free, but it was like being in a death grip.

"Bullcrap, who wouldn’t want to be with my adorable baby sister, especially when she looks just like me?" Alfred helpfully slammed her locker door shut before steering her away. "But I’m not complaining. Time for some serious _sibling_ love instead. You can go on a date with me!"

Maddie blinked, and suddenly they were halfway down the hall. She buckled her legs and shouted, causing him to bump into her from behind.

"Wait, I forgot my Geometry textbook!"

He wrinkled his nose. "Eww, Geometry. Tell ya what. I'll go get my car and you meet me out front, alright?"

"Okay."

Alfred sauntered off and Maddie retreated to her locker. She swung open the door and tugged the thick, orange book from the neat pile. It was heavy enough to make her stagger backwards, and the book flew out of her hands, pages fluttering loudly and landing on the floor with a loud thud. The noise echoed down the corridor. She winced. At least nobody was around to witness that.

“Whoa!”

Maddie winced again, with a little cringe thrown in as well. She knew that voice.

Gillian slid out from behind Maddie and reached down to pick up the book. Her silvery hair slipped over her shoulder as easily as water flowing over a rock. In that moment, Maddie became incredibly self-conscious over her own frizzy curls.

“Thanks.” Maddie hefted it into her arms. The girls stared at each other for a few seconds.

“Right!” Gillian snapped her fingers. “This is Agent B coming into report that Operation Artyfartlentines has been executed, and probably was an awesome success. I dunno, didn’t bother sticking around. I got other top-secret plans for today.”

“Oh, okay! Thanks for doing that. I know it was kind of a lot to ask.”

“No way, it was no problem. Even if his locker turned out to be kinda boring, just books and folders and stuff. Oh yeah, speaking of which…” Gillian began to rummage through her pockets. “Here you go!”

She thrust a small card into Maddie’s hands. It was a simple Valentine’s greeting featuring two plump yellow birds sitting in a tree filled with heart-shaped leaves. From the looks of it, it had been part of those store-bought sets, but Maddie didn’t care. A Valentine was a Valentine.

“Happy Valentines!”

“Wow, thanks so much.” Maddie knew she was definitely turning red again. “I’m really honoured, Gillian.”

“You better be. Only four people got a Valentine card from the awesome me. Ludwig, Francis, Tonio, and you. You’re the only girl, so I expect you to keep it better than the others!”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

“For my parents, I think I’ll just buy them a cake or flowers, something a little bigger.” Gillian tapped her chin thoughtfully. “And Roddy needs a really special form of affection.”

Maddie grinned. “Then I think I better get going before you figure that out. I’d rather not be implicated, if you don’t mind.”

“Hey! I’m not going to do something too bad.” Gillian snickered deviously. “But hey, smart move for you. Anyway, since I’ve got so many awesome plans to do. See ya round!”

Maddie was going to wave and turn around when suddenly the world when dark. Gillian had taken a leap forward to smother her in a big hug. “Bye!”

“Euhh…yeah, okay, bye.”

Gillian snapped up the hood of her red hoodie and waggled her eyebrows mischievously. She didn’t realize that she had left a poor girl catatonic in the middle of the school corridor as she darted away. Maddie stood there in shock for a few more minutes before she remembered that someone was waiting for her outside.

Thankfully, Alfred had his DS to his nose when she stumbled out of the building. She yanked open the front passenger door of the car and slid in next to him. He drove off towards the downtown area, chattering excitedly about a new burger joint he’d noticed advertising weekday specials.

Maddie could barely hear him. The one actual Valentine’s Day card she’d received had been from the last person she was expecting. Well, not really. Gillian had always been pretty nice to her, compared to other people. It wasn’t that others were unkind – oh no, that was extremely rare – but more that she seemed to make a personal effort to treat Maddie well. And did that _mean_ anything?! Maddie breathed in deeply. Gillian had said that she didn’t give out too many Valentines. Then she’d put an emphasis on Maddie being the only girl to get one. So what did _that_ mean?!

"Hey, Maddie?"

They’d pulled up to a red light. Alfred glanced at her through his rimless glasses and fiddled with the radio knob.

"Yeah?"

"When you do get a hot date with some guy, tell me first, okay? I'm not letting any weirdo get near you."

"Um, okay."

"Good!"

The light switched to green and the car lurched forward again. Alfred hummed along to the music. Maddie couldn't help but notice that he was actually staying on pitch - being in a musical probably had helped him a lot.

She opened her textbook and looked at the card again. Gillian hadn’t even bothered signing it. Perhaps it didn’t mean anything – Gillian might have found the box somewhere and decided to start giving them out to her friends. And Maddie happened to be someone friendly, so why not? Her heart rate gradually began to calm as Maddie thought of other reasons to stop trying to analyze the gift.

By the time they pulled up to First Bunner Up, she’d calmed down considerably. Alfred hopped out of the car and excitedly made a beeline for the entrance. Maddie followed a little more slowly.

Just before she closed the door though, she quickly reached back inside. An unsigned card somehow found its way into her pocket. Maddie smiled and walked into the restaurant.


End file.
